Oswald von Wolkenstein; a memoir of the last Minnesinger of Tirol

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Oswald von Wolkenstein

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V--Vf?A-<M-i7-

a — _

Otlo Sclmid. Vienna.
Effigy of Oswald von Wolkenstein in the Cathedral Cloister,
Brixen.

Oswald von Wolkenstein

A Memoir of the
Last Minnesinger of Tirol

By

Signora Linda Villari

With Many Illustrations

London 1901

J. M. Dent ^ Co.

Aldine House, W.C.

<i3C-.

^1

BY GRACIOUS PERMISSION

THIS MEMOIR OF THE

LAST MINNESINGER OF TIROL IS

DEDICATED

WITH DEEPEST RESPECT

TO

Her Imperial Majesty

THE EMPRESS FREDERICK OF GERMANY

Queen of Prussia

Florence, January 1901.

Principal Authorities Consulted

History of the House of Austria, William CoxE (Bohn).

Die Gedichte Oswald's -von Wolkenstein, Beda Weber, Ed.
(Innsbruck, 1847).

Os'wald von Wolkenstein und Herzog Friedrich, Beda Weber,
Ed. (Innsbruck, 1847).

Geschichte von der Bozenergegend, Beda Weber, Ed.
(Innsbruck, 1847).

Der Wolkenstein- Hauensteinische Erbschafts-streit, voN Anton
Noggler (1891).

Walther von der Vogel'weide,\ofi Anton Schonbach (Berlin,
189s).

Walther von der Vogeliueide, von Edward Samhaber
(Laibach, 1884).

An Etsch und Eisack, von Wolfgang Brachvogel (Miinchen,
1888).

Preface

Long ago, in a Tirolese mountain resort
facing the Rosengarten and the Schlern, I
first made acquaintance with Oswald von
Wolkenstein in the pages of a History of
Bozen, and, fascinated by the romance of his
Hfe, determined to write a short paper on it.

But years passed ; other subjects filled my
thoughts, until at last, in Tirol once more, I
recurred to the half-forgotten theme and began
to hunt up authorities. Then, so much material
fell in my way and roused so keen an interest
in my hero's poems and times, that the work
grew in my hands to its present proportions.

For Oswald cannot be properly studied apart
from his times, and the well-rewarded labour of
reading his verses in his own vernacular — using
the modernised version as a book of reference,
impelled me to try to give some faint idea of his
value as a poet. Pursuing the work in another

Preface

country, due research would have been im-
possible but for the kindness of learned friends.
So I take this opportunity of expressing my
warmest gratitude to Professor Semper of
Innsbruck, to Baron Salvadori of Trent, and
to Dr C. Fasola of Florence for their precious
and indispensable aid.

LINDA VILLARI.
Florence, December 1900.

List of Illustrations

Effigy of Oswald von Wolkenstein

The Trostburg, over Waidbruck

Kastelruth ....

, Duke Friedrich of Austria, Count c
Tirol ....

Emperor Sigismund .

Ruins of Hauenstein

Castle of Greifenstein

Castle of Forst, near Meran .

Innsbruck .....

Ruined Keep of Hauenstein

Frontispiece
To face page 5

)» s>

)> jj

S) J5

)» S>

15
26

39
56

6S
89

112

125

OSWALD VON WOLKENSTEIN

I

Regarding most of the Minnesingers who
played so picturesque a part in old German
life and literature, few personal details are
known. It is hard to learn what manner
of men they were when the main facts of
their history are either left untold or vaguely
traced through a mist of fantastic legend.
Unsubstantial, though often luminous shapes,
they flit before our eyes in court and camp;
we hear their songs, see their graceful forms,
but their feet scarcely touch the earth — they
have no " tactile values " — they never clasp
our hands with a human grip.

Certain things we know, of course : how
some of these poets are skilled masters of lute
and harp, and sing their verses to melodies of
their own composition, while others are voice-

A

2 Oswald von Wolkenstein

less and have to employ attendant musicians to
render their works. We see golden goblets,
rich robes, and ladies' smiles showered on these
shadows as they come and go ; but, sometimes,
hard blows and insults are their guerdon if their
rhymes chance to fret sore spots, or betray
over-ardent devotion to other men's wives.

Now and then we can build up an image of
the singer firom his written words. In the case
of minstrels of illustrious birth, some outlines
of their career may be gleaned from history;
but, usually, bare outlines without the living
touches required to give them flesh and blood.

For instance, in spite of persevering research,
the birthplace of Walter von der Vogelweide,
the greatest and best known of the Minne-
singers, is still a disputed point, although the
weight of evidence is in favour of a certain sun-
kissed slope above Waidbruck in Tirol. Yet
Walter's works live, for their poetic grace
and lofty patriotism belong to all time.

Fortunately for us, Oswald von Wolkenstein
was an autobiographical poet. This last of the
Minnesingers was likewise a political personage,

Oswald von Wolken stein 3

took a very active part in the events of his
time, and led so restless and adventurous a
life that one marvels how he found time to
learn, — much less to practise, — all the quaint
devices and precepts of the minstrel's art.

That special school of poetry was already
on the wane, but although, later on, Oswald
discarded its stricter conventions, he never
adopted the artificialities of the rising Meister-
singers, but evolved a style of his own, roughly
dramatic, spontaneous, realistic, and pulsing with
the life of his mountain people.

But as our first concern is with the personal
life of this remarkable man, detailed mention
of his works must be deferred to a future
chapter.

Born in 1367, two centuries later than
Walter von der Vogelweid, he probably
uttered his first cry in the family castle of
Trostburg, at a short distance from his great
predecessor's birthplace across the valley.

Oswald was the second son of Friedrich
von Wolkenstein and Katherine von Villanders.
His parents' marriage had united two branches

4 Oswald von Wolkenstein

of the same stock, and his mother, as sole
heiress of Eckhart von Villanders, added much
territory, including thp fief of Trostburg, to
her husband's possessions. The Wolkensteins
were already feudal lords of the Grodnerthal,
and their lands spread southwards up to
Kastelruth and Seis at the foot of the
Schlern.

Their earliest stronghold stood on the moun-
tain side guarding their hamlet of Wolkenstein
at the mouth of the Langethal — a romantic
avenue of peaks — that branches off from the
head of the Grodner valley near the giant
Dolomites of the Sella and Lang-Kofel groups.
Local tradition has it that the founder of the
line was an Italian chieftain who, driven from
his own country by Attila's hordes, sought
refuge in this remote spot, and mastering its
few inhabitants built his eyrie on the flank of
the Stevia. But, according to more authentic
authorities, the Wolkensteins were a branch
of the Villanders of Villanders near Klausen
on the Eisach and only obtained the Langethal
Castle by purchase, in 1309, from its original

w

13

Oswald von Wolkenstein 5

owners the Maulrappen. A ruined tower,
scarcely distinguishable from the yellow preci-
pice to which it clings, is all that remains
of this Wolkenstein nest, for the bulk of the
building was buried under a landslip centuries
ago.

In any case the family had risen to prosperity
and power long before the days of Knight
Oswald, and Grodnerthal chroniclers proudly
maintain that he was born at Schloss Wolken-
stein. It is a poetic belief, for there could be
no fitter cradle for a minstrel knight-errant than
this wildly beautiful valley where daring peaks
stand like flashing golden swords against the
sky, and " forests perilous " darkly frame flower-
gemmed meads and crystal streams. The ques-
tion could be settled had the month of his birth
been recorded, for his parents only used the
mountain fortress as a summer abode. So there
are many chances to one that Oswald first saw
the light in the warm panelled chambers of the
Trostburg.

This grand old castle — still in Wolkenstein
hands — perched on a crag above Waidbruck in

6 Oswald von Wolkenstein

the Eisack valley — and commanding the narrow
jaws of the Grodnerthal, formed a fine point of
vantage. Its lords could keep an eye on their
vassals in both valleys, while near enough to
Bozen and Meran to be in touch with public
events and the court life of Tirol.

This, then, was the Wolkenstein home, and
here three sturdy boys and two girls were
reared in the happy-go-lucky style of the time,
with much freedom and scanty instruction.

The young Oswald, destined to become "the
most perfect representative of the spirit of his
age " was a specially quick-witted, daring child,
and when little beyond babyhood had one of his
eyes shot out by a crossbow in some riotous
carnival frolic.

The children's education — of a very ele-
mentary kind — was confided to the family
chaplain, a meek ecclesiastic totally unequal
to the task of keeping his turbulent pupils
in order. As for their father, the sole lesson
he cared to enforce was the daily recital of a
catechism expounding the rights and privileges
of the Tirolese nobility in general and of the

Oswald von Wolkenstein 7

Wolkensteins in particular. These teachings
naturally fired all three boys with an inordinate
pride of birth, while Oswald, whose precocious
brain was already crammed with the romances
of chivalry and minstrel lays so constantly
heard in his music-loving home, was seized
with a premature ambition to win his spurs
as a knight. All too soon his opportunity
came.

In 1377 Duke Albert III. of Austria pro-
claimed a crusade against the heathen of Prussia
and Lithuania, whereupon the Teutonic Order
of knights of the Holy Cross, whose mission it
was to fight the infidel and inculcate Christianity
at the sword's point, called to arms a contingent
of Tirolese knights, and our little ten years' old
hero resolved to join the band.

In his autobiographical poem, entitled " Early
Youth," he tells us : —

" So it fell out that, aged ten,
I was fain to see the shape of the world ;
A crust of bread and three pence
In pouch for all my travel store."

His amazing parents seem to have made no

8 Oswald von Wolkenstein

objection to their son's early start in life, and
we know that a favourite maxim of theirs was
that — "Who hath ne'er suffered hurt, knoweth
not how to swallow herbs."

The crusading expedition probably halted at
Trostburg by the way, for it comprised, among
other good friends of the Wolkenstein house,
the Count von Montfort of Bregenz, a noble of
high standing, and his son Hugo. And as the
latter, although a mere stripling of eighteen
years, had already made his mark as a
Minnesinger, it is probable that his presence
had some share in deciding Httle Oswald's
vocation. At any rate, when the knights
resumed their march with standards flying,
shining harness and fluttering mantles broidered
with the black, lily-pointed cross of their order,
they had a very small boy in their train. But a
great-hearted boy, so full of enthusiasm for the
duties of knighthood that he gladly groomed
horses, scrubbed armour, did any menial task,
as a fitting preparation for the vigil at arms.
Naturally, severe hardships fell to his share ;
he was always roughly treated, often half-

Oswald von Wolkenstein 9

starved. But the urchin's courage never drooped.
Alert, observant, full of fun, he made the best
of his novel life, while his pretty voice and
talent for fiddling were highly appreciated in
camp and bivouac. Probably, too, young Count
Hugo was kind to him, for this warrior-poet
had no musical gift and required a minstrel
to sing his lays and fit them with appropriate
melodies. So Oswald may have exercised his
childish treble on the Count's verses and picked
up some useful hints on the art of making
poetry. In after years, Montfort's career
touched his own path at various times and
was almost equally adventurous. History is
silent as to any tie of friendship between the
two, but they must have been often thrown
together. But during this first crusade, Oswald
gained a friend for life in a princeling of about
his own age, the son of Kaiser Charles IV.
This Prince Sigismund, soon to be Mark-
graf of Brandenburg, then King of Hungary,
and best known to fame as Emperor of
Germany, never forgot his child-comrade and
became his staunchest protector.

lo Oswald von Wolkenstein

The crusading expedition did not achieve
any great result. After various raids on
heathen border-tribes, with the usual accom-
paniments of pillage and bloodshed, the pre-
mature severity of the season brought the
campaign to a sudden end.

But the Tirolese contingent returned home
without our Oswald. He remained behind in
a Commandery of the Teutonic Order, served
eight years as a common soldier in Prussia,
Lithuania, Poland, and Red-Russia, went
through many strange experiences, was
severely wounded, and was once taken captive
by the foe. But, wherever he might be, he
seized every opportunity of gaining know-
ledge, picked up ten languages and spoke
Sclavonic like a native. We next find him
on the Baltic, noting the wonderful com-
mercial enterprise of the Hansa towns and
apparently in their employ, seeing that he
visited all their principal depots, at Novgorod,
Bergen, Bruges, and even London. He also
went to Denmark, where he served as a volun-
teer in Queen Margaret's war with Sweden.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 1 1

In 1388 he crossed the seas to England, and
his travel-notes in the Wolkenstein archives
show that what most fascinated him in our
country was the legend of King Arthur and
the Holy Grail!

Maybe it was his dream of emulating the
pure and perfect knight that drew him to
Scotland when Robert II. was at war with
the EngUsh? For, according to Beda Weber,
he joined in the clash of arms and fought
in the Scottish ranks on the field where
Douglas fell.

After a flying visit to Ireland, he returned
to Germany in 1389, and joining a company
of traders travelled to Poland and the Black
Sea. While among the Venetians and Genoese
established in the Crimea, he found that his
Grodnerthal dialect enabled him to under-
stand at once the lingua franca of the
market.

But energy and acconiplishments notwith-
standing, fortune still frowned on our vagabond
poet. " Clothed in rags and always afoot,"
he could barely earn his daily bread. Once,

12 Oswald von Wolkenstein

indeed, he looted a horse and galloped away
feeling every inch a knight.

" But the ride went ill and punishment was
mine."

"Willing to turn his hand to anything :
"neither too proud nor too good to be mes-
senger or cook and thoroughly in my element
as a groom," he shipped on a merchant vessel
as cook and oarsman. Wrecked near Trebi-
zonde, he got safely to shore clinging to a cask,
and together with another survivor wandered
through Armenia and Persia. Before long,
he turned again to the sea and seems to
have had plenty of fighting, for, as he says,
" through friends and foes I shed much blood."
The record of his wanderings is left unfinished,
but on returning to Europe, there is reason
to believe that he served against the Turks,
in a position suited to his rank, under the
banner of his old friend Sigismund, now king
of Hungary; and in 1392, finally returned to
Tirol after fifteen years' absence. Certainly
too, neither penniless nor in rags, for his
renown as a minstrel had preceded him and

Oswald von Wolkenstein 13

he was known to have won distinction in
battlefields.

Even his own mother, Dame Katherine, must
have had some difficulty in identifying her
long-lost boy. The curly-headed, impish, hare-
brained knight-errant of ten was now a grave-
faced gentleman of twenty-five years, of broad-set
and powerful frame. His bright curls had turned
grey, but his luxuriant beard was of golden
hue. Although under middle height and blind
of one eye, he had a commanding presence, a
flashing glance, and a physiognomy that varied
with his moods ; now soft, dreamy or seductive,
now stern, morose, furious or repellent. The
ten languages at the tip of his tongue included
Russian, Arabic, Latin and Proven9al; he was
a masterly performer on as many instruments,
— the trumpet among others — had a grand
tenor voice, a store of miscellaneous knowledge,
and a large experience of mankind.

His home-coming made a noise throughout
South Tirol, for the Wolkensteins and their
kin were spread far and wide about the land
in various valleys, and right up to the roots

14 Oswald von Wolkenstein

of the great mountain ranges. Besides, in
addition to family feeling and the prestige of
personal merit, there were other reasons to
increase the warmth of his welcome, for his
presence was urgently needed at this juncture
to promote certain arrangements in which im-
portant family interests were at stake.

II

For many years before our hero's birth his
astute grandsire, Eckhart von Villanders, had
been steadily enlarging his domains on all sides,
either by purchase or violence, according to
circumstances. Bit by bit the Trostburg
boundaries had been pushed up to Kastelruth,
Seis and the Seiser Alp, and bit by bit the
impoverished lords of Hauenstein in the forest
region at the foot of the Schlern had sold
most of their lands to their wealthy neighbour,
only reserving the family castle with the home
woods and pastures. So they were hemmed in
on all sides by Wolkenstein ground, save where
the bare pinnacles of the Schlern soared above
their ancestral towers. But old Villanders
coveted even those towers and still more the
splendid timber of the forest encircling them.
The Hauensteins being prolific as well as poor,
in course of time both castle and precincts

1 6 Oswald von Wolkenstein

were jointly owned by twelve descendants.
Several of the latter dying off in rapid succes-
sion, Ulrich von Hauenstein gladly sold his
share of the property, i.e. one-third of the
castle, with the proportion of vassals, rights
and privileges comprised in that share, to the
acquisitive lord of Villanders. The deed of
sale was signed in 1367, the very year of
Oswald's birth, and Knight Eckhart settled
the property on his new-born grandson as a
christening present. Hinc illae lachrymae !
No wicked fairy could have endowed the
babe with a more fatal gift than this lonely
manor in the forest of the Schlern. Before
long, and after buying more scraps of land
on either side, Eckhart usurped all feudal
rights appertaining to Hauenstein. For now
every direct male heir — save one at a distance
— was dead, and even the Kastelruth branch
of the family was extinct.

When Knight Eckhart's aggressive life pre-
sently ended, all his possessions, save Hauen-
stein — already settled on Oswald — fell to his
daughter and her husband Friedrich von Wol-

Oswald von Wolkenstein 17

kenstein. Some years later, in 1393, Heinrich,
the last of the Hauensteins passed away, and
his sister Barbara, the wife of Martin Jager,
a petty noble of Tisens beyond Bozen, remained
sole heiress of two-thirds of Hauenstein and
its feudal rights. The powerful Wolkensteins
with strongholds on every hill, vassals in every
valley, paid no heed to Barbara's claims, never
dreaming that so insignificant a person would
dare to contest the law of the strongest. But
the lady and her husband proved stubborn
antagonists. They brought their case to the
notice of Duke Albert of Austria, who
referred it to the Court of Heinrich von
Rottenburg, Captain of the Etsch. Proceed-
ings were instituted; but trial of the case
was continually postponed, now by political
emergencies, then by devices of the defendants,
who meanwhile lorded it at Hauenstein and
felled timber wholesale. Very probably Hein-
rich of Rottenburg had little wish to give
judgment against such firm friends and allies
as his Wolkenstein neighbours and still less
when a prospect dawned of setthng the dis-

1 8 Oswald von Wolkenstein

pute in an amicable way. For Barbara Jager
possessed a beautiful young daughter of eighteen
years, and when Oswald reappeared in Tirol,
the name of the lovely Sabina was on all
men's lips and deeply graven in many hearts.
Perhaps, at this time, the Wolkensteins were
already trying to placate their opponents by
friendly overtures. At any rate the young man
and young maid were speedily brought together
and both fell in love at first sight. She was
beautiful and bewitching; he, though grey-
haired and one-eyed had much personal charm,
together with the prestige of daring deeds
and versatile talents. His verses, his music,
his romantic adventures captivated the girl's
imagination. It flattered her vanity to see
this travelled paladin at her feet, while other
women sighed for him in vain. But Sabina
soon tired of her conquest. Oswald's passionate
adoration became wearisome ; his songs lost
their charm. After playing fast and loose
with him for some time, always finding fresh
excuses for delaying the wedding, she finally
professed doubts of his love and declared she

Oswald von Wolkenstein 19

cduld not possibly marry him until he had
proved the strength of his constancy by a
pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

By a significant coincidence, she came to this
decision in 1397, exactly when the Bishop of
Brixen had pronounced verdict for the plaintiffs
in the great Hauenstein versus Wolkenstein
case. The Jagers were to be re-instated in
two-thirds of the Hauenstein estate, and they
also claimed 1,000 gulden as compensation for
damages to forest and farm.

Accordingly the ambitious Sabina now hoped
to find a better market for her charms than
marriage with a younger son who could only
offer her a share of her own lawful inheritance.
But Oswald never doubted his lady's good faith.
In those days, pilgrimage to Palestine was a
common test of knightly love. So it was in a
spirit of piety and chivalrous submission that
our Minnesinger donned pilgrim garb and, staff
in hand, trudged off to Italy on his way to the
East. During the first stages of the journey he
vented his passion in ardent lays to his mistress,
but then, with a sudden change of mood, he

20 Oswald von Wolkenstein

discarded his palmer's robe and scallop shell,
took ship from Genoa to Egypt in proper
soldierly array and traversed Arabia by caravan.
That he showed prowess in some crusade is plain
from the reward bestowed on him in Jerusalem
where he was dubbed Knight of the Holy
Sepulchre.

According to his amplest biographer, Beda
Weber, Oswald's thoughts, deeds, and verses at
this period "all bore the stamp of love-madness "
(Liebeswahnsinn). After an absence of three
years, he turned his steps homewards, visiting
the chief cities of Italy by the way, and on
Christmas Eve, 1400, re-entered the gates of
Trostburg.

It was a terrible home-coming. His father
lay unconscious in the agony of death and
expired the same night. His mother fell
dangerously ill from prolonged anxiety and
grief; and when Oswald asked news of his
Sabina he learnt that she had betrayed him and
was already the wife of Hans Hausmann of Hall.
Adding insult to injury his false love had
brutally declared that a rich old burgher was a

Oswald von Wolkenstein 21

better mate than a one-eyed pilgrim-minstrel.
His home desolate, his dearest hopes shattered,
Oswald was utterly crushed for a time and gave
way to frenzies of despair. But the artistic
temperament is elastic ; so before many months
had elapsed Ritter Oswald sought consolation
in riotous gaiety as the intimate friend and
boon-companion of the youthful heir of Tirol,
Duke Friedrich of Austria, generally known
as " Friedl of the empty purse."

At this time that spendthrift princeling lived
only for pleasure. Music, women, and wine
were his chief delights. Accompanied by
Oswald and other wild sprigs of nobility, he
roamed the country, feasting, carousing and
making love to every pretty face in cottage or
castle. Sometimes, indulging too freely in the
strong red wine of Tirol, the Duke had to be
pulled from under the table and put to bed by
less tipsy comrades, and Oswald commemorates
one of these festive bouts in his graphic verses
on "A Tavern Night-Scene." Our minstrel's
songs and ballads were already famed through-
out the length and breadth of the land, and

2 2 Oswald von Wolkenstein

his personal popularity equalled that of his
works.

So life whirled on merrily down to the year
1406. Then, however, Friedrich assumed the
reins of government as sovereign Count of
Tirol and brought the reckless fun to an
unexpectedly serious end. After having as-
sociated with his nobles on a footing of
perfect equality, without caring to assume
even the leadership of their pranks, now
Friedrich suddenly awoke to the responsibilities
of his station and showed his resolve to be
master, and not merely nominal lord of the land.

The Tirolese nobles had bitterly resented
the cession ^ of their country to Austria by their
last native ruler, Margaret " Maultasche," and,
during the subsequent reigns of absentee
counts, had gradually usurped power at the
expense of their titular over-lord, encroaching
on his prerogative at every turn, refusing to
acknowledge his authority, and, while professing

' For particulars of this cession, vide Coxe's History of
the House of Austria (vol. i.) and Zingerle's Schildereien
aus Tirol,

Oswald von Wolkenstein 23

steadfast allegiance to their suzerain the Em-
peror, always striving for the virtual independ-
ence of Tirol, or, — in point of fact, — for the
absolute independence of their own caste.
And the Kaiser looked on their proceedings
with an indulgent eye. In his jealousy for
his own imperial rights, he saw the ad-
vantage of these dissensions in Tirol. The
arrogance of provincial barons could do him
no harm, whereas he had' much to dread
from the encroachments of subject princes and
rejoiced to see their power restricted.

So young Duke Friedrich stood between two
fires and saw that the Empire would give him
no help in asserting his prerogative. In his
roistering, hare-brained days he had willingly
joined the "Elephant League," an association of
nobles to which all his comrades belonged, and
probably this intimacy enabled him to measure
the impossibility of reconciling their claims with
his rights as sovereign Count of Tirol. His
eyes were opened to their preposterous assump-
tions, to their inborn and carefully fostered
creed that their caste owed allegiance to the

24 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Kaiser alone, and that the Count of Tirol
was a mere figure-head bound to leave their
power untouched. He also knew that the
virtual ruler of the land was Heinrich von
Rottenburg, chief of the League and captain
of the Etsch. Once, when the young Duke
was strolling through the Bozen streets with
some festive companions, he saw Heinrich riding
into the town in full harness with a brilliant
retinue of attendant lords.

" Do you know who that man is .'' " he asked,
laughingly.

" Who but Rottenburg, captain of the
Etsch," answered one of his friends, amazed
by the question.

"Not at all," retorted Friedrich. "He is
the Regent of Tirol. I'm not worth a brass
farthing compared with him."

Another time, when Rottenburg appeared in
state array, the prince pushed through the
crowd of obsequious attendants and drawing
his sword presented it to the Captain as in
act of tendering homage, whereupon Rotten-
burg exclaimed, laughing at the jest —

Oswald von Wolkenstein 25

"Fritz, Fritz! when wilt thou learn wisdom?"

" When thou hast lost it ! " was the prompt
reply.

The jest was turned to deadly earnest, at
a later time when Rottenburg's power was
shattered by the Duke.

Meanwhile, when roaming about the country
in disguise like Haroun el Raschid, though un-
like him, for purposes of amusement, Friedrich
not only discovered the monstrous tyranny
practised by his nobles, but learnt to appreciate
his sturdy mountain folk, and foresaw that both
peasants and burghers would give him valiant
support in case of conflict with their oppressors.
This, too, regardless of the fact that the
Tirolese prelates — being likewise temporal lords
— were all on the nobles' side.

To give a full account of Friedrich's long
struggle with his rebellious barons would lead
us too far from our special theme ; but certain
details and episodes in which Oswald was con-
cerned demand some preliminary words in order
to explain the character of the prince and his
change of front towards our poet.

Ill

Friedrich IV. was the youngest son of Duke
Leopold of Austria and Virida Visconti of Milan.
He was neither a man of first-class ability nor
of high moral worth, but after the reckless
period of his minority and the first troublous,
blundering years of his reign, he developed
excellent qualities as a ruler. Really solicitous
for the welfare of his people, physically brave
and of genial temper, he could strike hard on
emergency, but seldom showed rancour, and,
even when coarsened by sensual excess, re-
mained susceptible to impulses of generosity
and mercy. During the prolonged and haras-
sing strife with his nobles he acted both with
military skill and political insight, and in spite
of early extravagance, was so successful in re-
organising the finances of the State that his
successor Duke Sigismund gained the merited

designation of "Sigismund the Wealthy."
26

, Gratl. Innsbruck.
Duke Friedrich of Austria, Count of Tirol.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 27

In his madcap, early days, he had feh a
passion of admiration for Oswald von Wolken-
stein — his elder by a year or so — looked up
to him in all things, and made him his prime
favourite. This versatile wanderer, whose
sword was no less keen than his intellect,
this fertile poet, wittiest of boon companions,
sweetest of singers, not only pleased his taste
but captivated his imagination. His other
associates seemed of dullest clay beside this
golden-tongued Wolkenstein with all those
thrilling tales of Eastern adventure and scraps
of strange lore gleaned from all parts of the
globe.

Accordingly, when the smouldering discon-
tent of the nobles burst into flame, his
favourite's desertion roused him to the bitterest
resentment. From the moment that Oswald
joined the hostile Adelsbund League into which
the jovial Association of the Elephant had
developed, Friedrich's love turned to hate,
and his hardest blows were aimed at his
quondam friend.

Nevertheless, Oswald had a real affection for

2 8 Oswald von Wolkenstein

his prince, and there is good reason to believe
that — overrating his own influence at Court —
he originally adhered to the League for the
purpose of acting as mediator between his
fellow-nobles and the Duke. But, naturally
enough, this attempt to serve two masters was
regarded with suspicion by both, and he was
presently caught in the current of party strife.
His brothers Michael and Leonhard, his kins-
men the Lichtensteins of Karneid, his friends
the Starkenbergs of Greifenstein, the Spaurs of
Nonthal, Heinrich von Rottenburg and Nicholas
Vintler were all in the revolt, and his interests,
in the main, coincided with theirs. So, after
much hesitation and certain futile attempts
towards reconciliation, which only excited sus-
picion of his motives on either side, he threw
himself heart and soul into the cause of the
Bund.

This was the turning-point of his life, the
opening of so strenuous and agitated a career,
that, at first sight, one is surprised that the
gentle art of verse-making should not have
been crushed out of him. But, a born realist,

Oswald von Wolkenstein 29

the impulse of outer events was as life-blood to
his muse, and so much of his poetry is auto-
biographical, that it is necessary to sketch the
course of those events, as well as the private
history of our minstrel knight, before turning
our attention to his works.

As we have said, the old " Elefantenbund,"
in which Friedrich himself was enrolled, was
dissolved in 1406 and reconstituted as the
" Adelshund an der Etsch." This new league
comprised one hundred and thirty-five nobles
pledged to defend their " good Tirolese rights "
against all assailants, not excepting their own
sovereign, in case of necessity. Heinrich
von Rottenburg, " Captain of the Etsch," was
at the head of the Bund and Oswald von
Wolkenstein was its leading spirit. The latter's
intellectual superiority, and his known influence
with the Emperor were of the utmost value to
the rebel lords. For Sigismund, being assured
of these barons' loyalty to the Empire, had no
wish to discountenance any scheme that might
cramp the energies of his too ambitious kinsman
Duke Friedrich. At first, however, Oswald

30 Oswald von Wolkenstein

clung to the hope of inducing the prince to
make important concessions and continued his
vain efforts at mediation. Thus, before the
Bund broke into open rebellion there was a
period of sullen opposition and secret ferment
in Tirol, and Friedrich profited by the delay to
deal his enemies one or two unexpected blows.

His chief difficulty being the lack of gold
that had won him the nickname of " Friedl of
the empty pouch," the first thing to be done
was to replenish his treasury. To effect this, it
was indispensable to get rid of Nicholas Vintler
the great banker of Bozen, who had all the
revenues of the State in his hands. Vintler was
a member of the League in virtue of his rank,
but took little interest in its schemes. His
personal tastes were artistic and literary, and all
his spare time was spent in decorating his beauti-
ful castle of Runggelstein and giving sumptuous
entertainments in its frescoed halls. A wealthy
merchant and banker, he had filled for many
years the post of " Receiver General " of Tirol.
He held all the mortgages and title deeds of
State property, and the feudal nobility had to

Oswald von Wolkenstein 31

pay into his hands all tithes and taxes due to
their over-lord on their fiefs.

It is uncertain whether Vintler made un-
lawful profits by these transactions or not ; but
at any rate the taxes he levied on his fellow-
nobles were based on old calculations by no
means corresponding with the increased value
of their lands. When first appointed to his
office by Friedrich's father Duke Leopold, he
had been granted a special patent exempting
him from the duty of submitting his accounts to
examination.

Accordingly he was deaf to all remonstrance,
and while professing devoted loyalty to his
sovereign, refused to make any change in his
system of taxation. So after much ineflfectual
discussion, Friedrich lost patience, captured
Vintler's luxurious castle by sudden assault and
proclaimed its owner as a rebel. The banker
had already fled to the stronghold of a fellow-
member of the Bund and presently, with diplo-
matic caution, opened peaceful negotiations with
the irritated prince. Matters were finally patched
up ; Vintler not only recovered his beautiful

32 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Runggelstein but obtained compensation for
damages inflicted by Friedrich's men-at-arms.
Nevertheless the prince had scored a victory,
for the seizure of all Vintler's papers and
accounts enabled him to master the financial
situation. Taxation was now rearranged on
a juster basis; money began to flow into the
coffers of the State, and the first blow was dealt
at the power of the nobles.

We must not forget to mention that Vintler
was an intimate friend and admirer of Oswald
von Wolkenstein who often played a prominent
part in the contests of minstrelsy for which
Runggelstein was famed. Having overthrown
the Receiver-General, Friedrich followed up this
success by active measures against various other
members of the Bund. The Lichstensteins of
Karneid and other kinsmen and friends of the
powerful Wolkensteins were the next to feel
the weight of his hand. The Wolkensteins'
turn was to come later.

Meanwhile Oswald's false love, Sabina Hauss-
man, had lost her elderly husband, and being
free to use his wealth to forward her ambitions.

Oswald von Wolkenstein ^;^

was now an established power at the court of
Tirol. Her dazzling beauty had speedily en-
slaved Friedrich's too susceptible heart, and she
was employing her wiles to inflame his wrath
against her rejected lover in order to press her
claims for compensation as heiress of Hauenstein.
She coolly valued her share of the Jager estate
at 6,000 gulden, and demanded that Oswald
should either pay this preposterous sum, or be
forced to make restitution of the castle and
lands.

As we have already explained, the Wolken-
steins had taken full possession of Hauenstein
before Oswald's birth. Therefore, in accord-
ance with the creed and custom of the time,
our hero was not only devoid of responsibility
for his predecessors' deeds — however irregular
they may have been — but bound to preserve
his inheritance intact. Besides, he had the
completest belief in the soundness of his title.
His grandfather had purchased Hauenstein from
the Jagers and given it to him at his birth.
What could be clearer? His dearest ambition

had been to make Sabina its chatelaine as his

c

34 Oswald von Wolkenstein

wife. Thus she would have been mistress of
all. Her claim — such as it was — to a share of
the estate had been forfeited by her own act,
when she had broken faith with him in favour
of the burgher of Hall. Let her rave ! Not
a scrap of Hauenstein soil, not a single gold
piece would he yield !

Nevertheless, Oswald soon found it advisable
to go abroad for a while. Things were at a
deadlock in Tirol ; fresh plans must be hatched
to strengthen the nobles' cause. Also, there
was another and still more pressing reason for
flight. In spite of Sabina's virulent enmity, he
was always thinking of her, always haunted by
her too seductive image and shrank from meeting
her face to face. A word, a smile, and he would
be again at her feet !

So, in 1408, he started for Spain, to take
part in a crusade against the Moors about to
be waged by King John of Portugal. At most
critical moments, the medieval side of Oswald's
nature always regained the mastery, and to do
battle for the faith seemed the best means of
safety from temptations of the flesh.

Oswald von Wolkenstein ^^

But on the way through Germany he turned
aside to visit the castle i of his old friend
Ulrich II. of Schwangau on the Lech. The
two were kindred spirits as regarded the art
of minstrelsy, as well as sterner themes, and
the Schwangau line boasted of more than
one Minnesinger. Here Oswald found his
good genius in the person of Ulrich's young
daughter Margaret, a slender maid of sixteen,
already fired with eager enthusiasm for the
Tirolese poet whose songs she had sung ever
since she was a child. This angelic vision of
girlhood quickly freed our hero from Sabina's
lurid spells, and in spite of his physical defects
and his forty - two years, he soon won the
maiden's heart. They were duly betrothed;
but the marriage was to be deferred until
Oswald's return from the war to which he
was pledged. So once more he loved and
rode away. And, strangely enough, he showed
no haste to secure his bride, even when the

1 This castle is the now ruined tower of Hinter-Hohen
Schwangau in Bavaria, close to the well-known Schwanstein
and Hohen Schwangau built by the mad King Ludwig.

^6 Oswald von Wolkenstein

crusade had ended in triumph. Possibly the
tender love-ditties inscribed to his Margaret
during this absence deadened the pain of
separation, but, in all probability, some more
potent attraction was accountable for his
neglect.

We know that the Portuguese sovereign
and his English queen (a daughter of John
of Gaunt) showed the warmest appreciation of
Oswald's versatile powers, and that their sons
Peter and Ferdinand, who led the crusade, were
knights of his own stamp. After taking a
prominent part in the campaign and in that
brilliant feat of arms, the storming of Ceuta,
until then an impregnable stronghold of the
Barbary pirates, he returned to Portugal with
the victors and tarried long at their court.
He next visited the Moorish king of Grenada,
where his gift of minstrelsy won him fresh
laurels, and then journeyed slowly through
Castile and Provence, everywhere acclaimed
as the king of Minnesingers.

According to Beda Weber, the minute though
— too often — incorrect chronicler of our hero's

Oswald von Wolkenstein 'i^']

life, Oswald's absence was prolonged to 141 3,
when startled by ill tidings from the Bund, he
hastened to join the Emperor Sigismund in
Lombardy and accepted a secret mission to
Tirol in furtherance of the imperial schemes.
But Herr Anton Noggler's discoveries in
the Wolkenstein archives prove that Oswald
returned to his country at least two years
earlier, and was apparently again in good
favour at Court. For early in 141 1 a suit
brought against him by the Bishop of Brixen
came to trial and Duke Friedrich gave a verdict
for the defendant. Also, certain allusions in
the Wolkenstein papers lead Herr Noggler to
believe that about this time Oswald vras again
bewitched by Sabina's charms, offered her his
hand for the second time and was rejected
anew. If this were the case, Oswald's neglect
of his Margaret is explained, so too the long
break in his autograph note-books on which
Weber's narrative is based. Humiliation and
— let us hope — some touch of remorse may
well have driven him back to Spain, to seek
forgetfulness in music and song.

38 Oswald von Wolkenstein

However this may be he was undoubtedly
in South Tirol in 141 3, and, dismayed by the
success of Friedrich's acts of repression, applied
his energies to the task of obtaining the
Kaiser's active help for the Bund.

Indeed, as matters stood, the sole hope of
the Tirolese barons lay in the recognition of
their status as vassals of the Empire alone and
their consequent independence of the Count of
Tirol. So they looked forward eagerly to the
approaching Council of Constance as the means
of securing that recognition and reducing their
too vigorous sovereign to the position of a lay
figure. They had a fair chance of success, for
besides other causes of friction, the Kaiser was
specially enraged against Friedrich on account
of his adherence to the schismatic Pope,
John XXlII.i Accordingly Osw^ald was sent
to Constance as the representative of the
Adelsbund.

1 Vide Coxe's History of the House of Austria, vol. i., p.
194 and foil.

Gnitl. Inn si ruck.

Emperor Sigismund.

IV

All Europe indeed was represented at Con-
stance. This solemn gathering of princes and
potentates convened by Sigismund i to end the
schism in the Church appealed to all sorts and
conditions of men. In the shadowy background
of that brilliant scene hundreds of political
schemers were busily weaving their webs,
while in front of the stage passed endless
processions of sightseers and pleasure-seekers
of every degree. Country bumpkins, stout
burghers, steel-clad knights, noble ladies, men-
at-arms, friars, priests, pedlars, pickpockets,
pilgrims, jugglers, mimes and musicians all
jostled one another in the city by the lake.

1 Carlyle gives a passage from his inaugural speech :
" ' Right Reverend Fathers, date operant ut ilia nefanda
schisma eradicetur ' — to which a cardinal mildly remark-
ing : ' Domine, ichisma est generis neutriui,' Sigismund
loftily replies : ' Ego sum Rex Romanus et super gram-
maticam.'" {^Vide History of Frederick II. nf Prussia,
vol. i., by Thomas Carlyle.)

40 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Towards the close of 141 4 no less than fifty
thousand foreigners were gathered in Constance,
as many visitors from adjacent parts, and about
thirty thousand horses. The official contingent
furnished by the Church ran up to eighteen
thousand persons. Twenty-nine cardinals headed
the list, next came thirty-three archbishops, one
hundred and fifty bishops, one hundred abbots,
fifty arch-priests, three hundred doctors of
canonical law, with the requisite train of lay
functionaries and hangers-on. It is also said
that, in addition to the throng of ofiicial person-
ages and spectators, seven hundred musicians and
players, and an equal number of public women
pursued their respective callings in the town.

Our observant poet was much interested
by the stir and turmoil of this world's fair
although he seems to have had some un-
comfortable moments. Naturally, prices were
high, even for privileged members of the
Council, and the numerous poor gentlefolk
scattered through the suburbs were cruelly
squeezed by extortionate inn-keepers. Oswald
relates in verse how the best of everything

Oswald von Wolkenstein 41

was reserved for spiritual palates, while lay-
men were left to starve. He gives comic
instances of the cost of food and of hosts who
would confiscate the very wheels of your coach,
should your purse fail to satisfy their greed.
Nevertheless, even hungry guests found abun-
dant amusement in the overflowing city. Danc-
ing, singing and fiddling went on all day and
nearly all night in its streets. There were public
diversions of every kind: grand tournaments,
miracle plays, Tirolese peasant dramas, wild-
beast shows and fights, excursions to pleasure
gardens by the lake and convivial meetings on all
sides. Female society of every class could be
freely enjoyed. Ladies of high degree flocked to
the festivities in Constance, gladly escaping for a
while from the dulness of home life in isolated
castles. Many valiant knights, Oswald among
them, boasted of having their beards torn out
in the scrimmage and confusion of the dance;
while some bemoaned the loss of precious jewels
and seals snatched by light fingers in the crowd.
So, for the general public, life at Constance at
this period was a whirl of perpetual gaiety.

42 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Music was discussed no less than theology,
for the last, melodious minstrel lays and the
new, pedantic strains of the Meistersingers
mingled with the debates of prelates in Council.
Also many weddings were solemnized, owing
to a belief in the supreme efficacy of nuptial
benedictions pronounced by fathers of the
Church. Nor was the clash of arms unheard,
for the soldiery and retainers of the different
" nations " assembled, frequently came to blows
over their cups. It was also noted that much
land in Tirol changed hands about this time,
for titled owners in need of cash for their
pleasures gladly struck bargains with thrifty
peasants.

But while taking their share of the fun,
many prominent Tirolese nobles were anxiously
watching the proceedings of the Council and
looking to the discomfiture of their sovereign
through the verdict of the empire and the
Church.

In the midst of all these mundane excite-
ments Oswald was suddenly recalled to tenderer
feelings. At some great festival he came, un-

Oswald von Wolkenstein 43

expectedly, face to face with his neglected
betrothed. She had come to Constance with
her father or brother, and the errant lover seems
to have had little difficulty in making his peace
with the beautiful girl. Perhaps the songs
written for her during his wanderings pleaded
in his favour, for her image certainly inspired
some of the very best of his work. Few
German poets of any age have produced love
poems of equal tenderness and descriptive
force. In one of the " Margaret " series his
" proud Swabian " is a truly living figure. We
behold her perfections of face and form; hear
her speak and sing. She stands before us a
radiant vision, " nobly planned " with soft, dark
eyes, waving light hair, delicate nose, smiling
lips, shell-like ears and tiny feet. So, we can
imagine how she listened to Oswald's prayers
and quickly granted the mercy craved. We may
be sure that he pressed his suit ardently enough;
for the simple, blushing child from whom he
had parted so lightly five years before, had
now blossomed into a stately young lady whose
beauty was enhanced by the gauds of festival

44 Oswald von Wolken stein

attire. During all these years of waiting she
had been constant to her beloved poet, and
although constancy may have been easy in her
tranquil home-life, the lesson of mercy could not
have been so easily learned save from exceptional
sweetness of nature.

As will be seen later on, her attitude towards
Oswald — in spite of his age — was invariably one
of quasi maternal indulgence.

It would be interesting to know whether she
had heard of her poet's recent doings at Inns-
bruck and how — forgetful of his vows — he
had again worshipped at the shrine of his false
goddess. News travelled slowly in those days,
and Schwangau was a sheltered retreat ; but in
any case, the gentle Margaret forgave everything
to the man of her choice, her first and only
love. In fact she seems always to have regarded
her Oswald's faults as the unavoidable "defects
of his qualities."

Even the notorious Wolkenstein temper
caused her no alarm, and after prolonged
experience of it in the seclusion of Hauenstein,
she was still able to say with a cheerful smile,

Oswald von Wolkenstein 45

that "the Wolkenstein fury was a good-
natured thing and did no harm."

Matters went smoothly now ; the lovers met
frequently and all preliminaries for the marriage
had been arranged, when suddenly public
events interposed to delay the wedding.

Being an Imperial envoy, with a yearly
stipend of 300 '■^red Hungarian gulden,"
Oswald was not his own master. It was his
duty to watch public events, to fly hither and
thither as required, and now, all at once, he
received orders to accompany the Emperor to
Perpignan.

Accordingly, Margaret was left behind with
her family in Constance, and even her sweet
endurance must have been tried by this fresh
parting, and by dread of the new temptations to
which her volatile betrothed would be exposed.

The object of the journey was serious
enough, for Sigismund was bent on complet-
ing the work of the Council, and — as a sequel to
the forced abdication of Pope John XXIII. and
voluntary withdrawal of Gregory XII. — procur-
ing the renunciation of Benedict XII. who had

46 Oswald von Wolkenstein

taken refuge at the Aragonese court. But, of
course, the Imperial visitor was welcomed with
due pomp, and at all the festivities held in his
honour his minstrel envoy played a very con-
spicuous part. We have no record of Margaret's
ideas on the subject, but we know what any
loving girl must have felt, especially, when the
promised bridegroom was so very apt to be
carried away by artistic excitement.

Throughout the Middle Ages the court of
Aragon was renowned for its enlightened
patronage of music and poetry, and the
Queen Margarita who showered favours on
our Tirolese singer was the wife of King
Ferdinand. In a poem entitled "Am Minne-
hof" (At the Court of Love) Oswald de-
scribes his reception at the palace, how he
paid homage to the fair Queen by offering her
his beard, how she rewarded him by stringing
a jewelled ring on it with her own white hands,
and the whispered command, "never to unloose
it " (non may plus disligaides) ; and next, how
the gracious lady pierced his ears with a steel
needle and fixed other two rings in them.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 47

One is not surprised to learn that King
Sigismund was much startled by his friend's
adornments, thought he had gone mad, and
anxiously asked if the rings did not pain him !

At all the fetes given for the Kaiser, Oswald
was lionized to his heart's content. His fine
voice, his compositions, his playing were praised
to the skies, and the general enthusiasm reached
its climax at a court ball when, announced as
the " Viscount of Turkey," he made his appear-
ance in a gorgeous Arabian costume, performed
Moorish dances, sang Moorish songs "as per-
fectly as any prince of Grenada," and was
unanimously acclaimed a "royal poet."

Sigismund's visit to France, although barren
of political results, was carried out with an
imperial splendour ill suited to the state of the
imperial exchequer.

We read that he rode into Paris with a train
of eight hundred knights in full armour, and
several hundred men. The Kaiser was bare-
headed; he wore the grey cross of his newly
instituted Order of the Dragon, and he kissed
his hand to all the ladies thronging windows

48 Oswald von Wolkenstein

and balconies. Wolkenstein rode at his heels,
arrayed in his Moorish dress, bearing a zither
in one hand, a naked sword in the other, and
many glittering decorations across his breast.
In fact, according to his diary, he attracted
almost as much admiration as his master, the
Emperor.

Did he write in this strain to his patient love,
and relate all the mad frolics at Court, as well
as his legitimate triumphs as a poet i*

In the midst of these Paris gaieties, disquiet-
ing news came from Constance. Duke Friedrich
of Tirol had made his escape. So Sigismund
hastily left France, and our hero was restored to
his expectant bride.

V

A FEW words of explanation are now required
concerning the miserable condition to which
Duke Friedrich had been reduced and why
he had been obliged to seek safety in flight.
Without entering upon the tangled tale of
his relations with Switzerland and consequent
friction with the Empire, it may be well to
remind our readers that he had strongly
opposed Sigismund's election, had given still
worse offence by refusing to do homage to him
for his territories, and then, accepting the over-
tures of John XXIII., had come to the Council
of Constance as the standard-bearer and ad-
herent of that schismatic Pope. There, as
we all know, John was forced by the Council *
" to promise to abdicate the Papal chair as a
sacrifice to the peace of the Church. At the
same time Friedrich being summoned by the

1 Vide Coxe's History of the House of Austria, vol. i.,
p. 195 axidifoU.

5o Oswald von Wolkenstein

Emperor to do homage, reluctantly complied,
and received the investiture of his fiefs." But
fearing that Sigismund would support the
claims of the bishops of Trent, Brixen, and
Coire whom he had attacked and despoiled,
the Duke promoted the escape of Pope John
who hoped by his flight to dissolve the
Council. Accordingly Friedrich invited all the
great world of Constance to a magnificent
tournament outside the city, and while it was
going on the Pope fled in disguise to Friedrich's
castle at Schaifhausen, where he was presently
joined by its owner. But their plans were soon
checkmated by the attitude of the Council.
Instead of being dissolved, it was declared
permanent and superior to the authority of the
anti-pope, by whom it had been convened.
Friedrich was excommunicated, placed under
the ban of the empire, deprived of his terri-
tories, declared a traitor to his suzerain and
an enemy of the Church, while neighbouring
states were incited to invade his possessions.
Soon the whole empire was in arms, and a large
force advanced upon Schaffhausen, whereupon

Oswald von Wolkenstein 51

Friedrich and John hastily fled to Laffenburg.
As most of the Swiss cantons rallied to the
imperial banner, Friedrich's losses were severe,
and even his family castle of Hapsburg
was wrested from him. Still, his cause was
by no means desperate, for his Tirolese
subjects and his Black Forest folk remained
staunch and were eager to come to his aid;
Pope John sent large supplies of money, and
the Dukes of Burgundy and Lorraine prepared
to march to his assistance. But Friedrich was
panic-struck, and despairing of success, listened
to the pusillanimous counsels of Louis, Duke
of Bavaria, and decided to deliver up the Pope
and yield himself to the mercy of Sigismund.^

Accordingly he went back to Constance
and meekly submitted to the indignities heaped
upon him. His degradation was Sigismund's
triumph, so no humiliation was spared him.
Summoned to the Imperial presence, in the
Franciscan monastery, he found the Emperor
on his throne, in state array, with the chief

1 Fide Coxe's History of the Home of Austria, vol. i.,
p. 197.

52 Oswald von Wolkenstein

princes of the empire, several ambassadors and
the fathers of the Council in attendance.

He had to prostrate himself before the throne,
implore pardon for his offences against the
Kaiser and the Church, tender an oath of
submission, make formal surrender of all his
territories, from Tirol to the Brisgau, and
finally after a humble appeal for mercy and
vowing to hold as by favour whatever lands
the Emperor might deign to restore, he yielded
his person in hostage for the fulfilment of the
conditions prescribed.

It must have been a terrible scene, and history
tells us that most of those present were moved
to pity. The painful ceremony concluded,
Sigismund clasped Friedrich's hand, and turn-
ing to the Italian prelates, said in a loud voice :

" You well know, reverend fathers, the power
and consequence of the dukes of Austria ; learn
by this example what a king of the Germans
can accomplish. " 1

So while Sigismund went off to Aragon and

1 Vide Coxe's History of the House of Austria, vol. i.,
p. 198.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 53

France, his vanquished foe was held in safe
keeping at Constance. Closely watched and
barely supplied with the necessaries of life,
his position was a most pitiable one.

Stupefied with despair, he seemed almost insen-
sible to the threats and insults continually hurled
at him in this hostile city. But on learning that
his treacherous brother Ernest of Styria was
trying to wrest his faithful Tirol from him,
his apathy melted away and he was stung to
vigorous action. With the aid of two or three
devoted adherents he escaped from Constance
on the I St March 141 6, and crossing the
Arlberg made his way into the valley of the
Eisack where a considerable body of Tirolese
flocked to his standard. Welcomed as a
saviour by this loyal mountain folk, his forces
increased at every step, and thus his march
was soon converted into a triumphal procession.
A treaty of peace was presently concluded
with his brother at Castle Krapfsburg in the
Innthal; the discomforted Ernest withdrew
to his own dominions and all danger of civil
war was happily averted.

54 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Such was the position of affairs on Sigismund's
hurried return to Constance, and his costly
pleasures in Spain and France having drained the
treasury, he promptly sold all Friedrich's forfeited
fiefs and even alienated his power of redeem-
ing mortgaged lands. While absorbed in the
pleasant occupation of refilling his purse he
was interrupted by a sudden change of front
on the part of Duke Ernest. For the latter
unexpectedly appeared before Constance at the
head of a considerable force and extorted
Sigismund's consent to an amicable arrangement
with Duke Friedrich of Tirol. As the new
Pope, Martin V., strongly supported this pro-
posal, a formal reconciliation was accordingly
concluded and, for the third time, Friedrich
swore fealty to the Emperor in Constance (25th
May 141 8), and having agreed to restore the
lands wrested from the Bishop of Trent, and
to pay Sigismund 70,000 florins — which sum was
afterwards reduced to 50,000 — all his territories
were given back to him, excepting those ceded to
the Swiss and various fiefs irrecoverably alienated
by the Kaiser, He was duly reinstated as

Oswald von Wolkenstein ^^

prince of the empire, and honoured with the
privilege of being one of the supporters of the
papal canopy when Pope Martin departed from
Constance in state.

There is no reason to believe that our hero
Oswald was an eye-witness of these scenes,
indeed, as the next chapter will show, it is
almost impossible that he could have been in
Constance at that date. Nevertheless the
Emperor was not forgetful of his faithful friend
and servant. One of the clauses of his deed of
reconciliation with Friedrich bound the latter
to restore to Oswald von Wolkenstein all that
he had taken from him and to give him full
compensation for all property or buildings which
he had burnt or destroyed.

Where then was Oswald the reader may
ask? His marriage had been achieved at last,
some time in 1417. No details of the wedding
have come down to us, but as we know that it
took place in Constance and was probably conse-
crated by the much coveted blessings of fathers
of the Church. Thereupon, obtaining leave from
his emperor and discarding politics for a while,

^6 Oswald von Wolkenstein

he bore off his bride to his native land and
settled down with her at Hauenstein in the forest
at the foot of the Schlern.

This castle on a rock backed by the towering
crags of the great Dolomite mountain, and
encircled on three sides by a wilderness of
velvet-topped pines must have been an ideal
retreat for the newly-wedded couple. And
better still, under the circumstances, it was a
well-protected nest. For the guards on the
watch-tower high above the trees could signal
at need to friendly Seis down below, or to
Kastelruth - town across the sunny plateau
beyond; while their outlook also commanded
every line of approach from the main valley
of the Eisack, the Grodnerthal, etc. So the
Minnesinger could ignore Duke Friedrich's
threats for a space, and enjoy his love-
idyll undisturbed. In fact, some of Oswald's
tenderest lyrics, composed at this time, breathe
the spirit and charm of sylvan life. Seeing that
they comprise several "Spring Songs," hailing
the moment when " the torrents freed from icy
bond," our ears are once more gladdened by the

Gratl. Innsbruck.

Ruins of Hauenstein.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 57

sound of running water and the music of carol-
ling birds ; — when snow-dazzled eyes again rest
on budding flowers and delicate greenery, it
seems probable that our poet's marriage had
taken place during the winter months. But
the exact date of it is uncertain, and we only
know that 141 7 proved a very eventful year
for the Wolkenstein family.

By this time Duke Friedrich's position in
Tirol was notably strengthened by the assured
loyalty of the mass of his subjects. In fighting
the tyrannous nobility, he championed the cause
of the lower classes. The people at large
knew nothing of his errors of policy in his
dealings with the empire, — that was a question
which nowise concerned them, — but their hearts
had been deeply stirred by the news of his
sufferings at Constance, they had welcomed his
return, and vigorously assisted him to defeat
the treacherous attacks of his brother Duke
Ernest. Accordingly, Friedrich was now free
to deal with the rebellious barons, to besiege
them in their strongholds and reduce them to
terms.

58 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Thus far he had left the Wolkensteins alone ;
Michael was still undisturbed at the Trostburg,
Leonhard in his manor below Kastelruth,
Oswald on his Hauenstein crag. But storm-
clouds were gathering over all three, and
darkest of all over the head of our poet who
as the trusted servant of the Kaiser was the
best hated and most dangerous of the clan.
There was already a muttering of thunder in
the air, and — forewarned of his personal peril —
Oswald seldom passed the boundaries of his
forest which — at that period — stretched its
dark mass almost to the gates of Kastelruth.
Besides, these were honeymoon days and easy
to spend in honeymoon fashion, regardless of
impending trouble.

We may be sure that in spite of Oswald's
remarkably varied experiences, he found com-
plete happiness in the arms of his fair, young
wife. For this "proud Swabian beauty" who
had loved him so faithfully was a high-souled
woman full of intellect as well as charm. We
know that the poet humbly confessed his un-
worthiness of so rare a treasure, and that under

Oswald von Wolkenstein 59

her influence all his noblest aspirations budded
afresh. In those holiday weeks, the pair
wandered here and there in the legend-haunted
forest, rested on the banks of its numerous
lakelets, climbed to the flowery meads of the
Seisser Alp and penetrated the rocky wilds of the
Schlern. And, although the fact is unrecorded,
surely they explored the mysterious cavern
behind the waterfall at the head of the gorge,
once the passage to the Magic Rose-garden, and
discussed Dietrich's mortal combat with the
Dwarf King Laurin. Oswald's wonderful bridal
songs — in the form of tender duets — were
composed at this time, together with his praises
of spring, and we can imagine the couple reclin-
ing at the foot of some giant pine, talking
lovers' talk and pausing to listen to bird-voices,
murmuring streams, or the mighty rush of wind
through the trees. But the minstrel bridegroom
was a man of action above all ; the perils gather-
ing beyond the forest were as wine to his fiery
spirit and soon roused him from his idyllic dream.
No messenger climbed to the castle gate with-
out bringing evil news. This or that strong-

6o Oswald von Wolkenstein

hold was captured, some other beleaguered ; the
circle of iron was closing round him. At any
moment the watchers on the keep might detect
the flash of Friedrich's lances in sunlit glades,
or hear the tramp of horses in hidden forest
tracks. Before long, Schloss Karneid was
snatched from Oswald's kinsmen the Lichten-
steins, next, Salegg surrendered. His brothers
sent word that Trostburg being no longer secure,
the Adelsbund had resolved to concentrate its
forces elsewhere. So it was advisable to leave
Hauenstein at once, if only to ensure the safety
of his wife and the expected heir. But as the
poet's blood was up, his fiercest passion aroused,
no peaceful retreat was chosen. Skirting the
jaws of danger, he conveyed his Margaret by
devious ways to stout Greifenstein, on the pre-
cipitous crag beyond Bozen, where the Starken-
bergs and the rest of the League were cheerfully
preparing to resist attack. Oswald had escaped
from Hauenstein at the right moment, for the
ducal troops surrounded its walls a day or two
after he had gone. His garrison maintained so
vigorous a defence, that Friedrich failed to

Oswald von Wolkenstein 6i

take the castle itself and only succeeded in
destroying the outer buildings. Meanwhile,
brave Lady Margaret could breathe in peace
in the Greifenstein eyrie while her husband
and his friends were strengthening its defences.
They had abundant supplies of every kind,
plenty of men, and the hardy garrison was
continually reinforced by other rebel leaders
and their followers. To our modern ideas, this
gaunt, wind-swept Greifenstein fortress would
seem a grimly unsuitable abode for a delicate
young wife. But Margaret von Schwangau
came of a fighting stock, and had been reared
amid alarms of war. One may be sure that
with Oswald beside her, she was insensible to
fear and perfectly at home in these martial
surroundings. Doubtless her presence gave a
touch of feminine grace to the mediaeval
arrangements of the Starkenberg household.
We can imagine her consulting with the
chatelaine on the question of stores and helping
to prepare salves, simples and bandages in view
of possible casualties. Hostilities would soon
begin, and every spare moment must be turned

62 Oswald von Wolkenstein

to account. Now that Heinrich von Rottenburg
had been crushed, the Starkenberg brothers
were the most influential and wealthiest nobles
of South Tirol. They were absolute proprietors
of no less than eight castles, inclusive of
Greifenstein, and besides these domains held
four others, Hoch Eppan, Schlanders, Ulten
and Zufal in fee from the Duke. These fiefs
being mortgaged (albeit for amounts much
inferior to their value) their holders were
bound to pay a certain quota of their revenues
to the State treasury. This duty however they
had hitherto evaded, and even when Friedrich
oflFered to redeem Schlanders, sent them the
amount of the mortgage money, and demanded
the title deeds in return, Ulrich von Starken-
berg burst into furious imprecations, slashed his
sword through and through the ducal missive,
and bade the messengers carry word to their
master that the Starkenbergs refused his gold
and would not surrender the deeds. The
haughty brothers believed themselves to be in-
vulnerable. At the court of Vienna, Ulrich had
openly defied Friedrich's authority; whereupon

Oswald von Wolkenstein 63

the Duke had reminded him that he was his
sovereign lord and would speedily call him to
account. This incident brought the famous
"Starkenberg strife" to a climax. On his
return to Tirol, the Duke promptly assaulted
and seized nine of Ulrich's castles in rapid
succession; but the brothers still defied him at
Greifenstein, making raids in all directions,
plundering peasants and traders and harassing
the ducal troops close to the gates of Bozen.
So now a fierce, personal struggle was im-
minent.

Frederic's banners were sighted in the valley
beneath Greifenstein soon after his attack upon
Hauenstein, and presumably his march had been
hastened by the knowledge that all the Wolken-
steins were gathered within the Starkenberg
walls. Day after day masses of troops — with
harness and weapons glittering in the sun —
streamed up the valley from Bozen, invested the
crag and formed a great camp. But Greifen-
stein had ways of communication unknown to
the foe. Thanks to a warren of subterranean
vaults and passages with hidden exits in woods

64 Oswald von Wolkenstein

on the mountain side, messengers from the castle
came and went as they pleased.

So the members of the Adelsbund collected
on the ramparts above could laugh at the block-
ade, at Frederic's siege train and all the prepara-
tions for battering their walls. Down below
there among the vines, the soldiers were as
pigmies swarming over a giant's foot. Yet the
Duke was no mean opponent and spared no
pains to reduce this nest of rebels. For he
presently attacked it from above as well as from
below, stationing half his force on the cliff domin-
ating Greifenstein in the rear and only separated
from the castle-crag by a deep, narrow cleft.
This plan ought to have succeeded, seeing that
Friedrich's chief gunner was supplied with the
marvellous, newly-invented powder that was
soon to change the whole art of war. But
apparently the guns were badly served, and a
ponderous engine devised to hurl big rocks into
the castle came to grief at the first trial. Then
too the besieging force, although numerous,
was untrained and badly officered, for as no
nobles of great standing were on the Duke's side

Gratl. Innshruch.

Castle of Greifenstein.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 6^

it consisted mainly of mercenaries and peasant-
militia. Most of the latter would have done very
good service in the field, but proved restive to
camp-discipline, and wearying of the ineffectual
siege, many deserted and the rest came and went
as they chose. All knew that Kaiser Sigismund
was favourable to the rebels and threatening to
invade Tirol in their behalf.

On the other hand, the defenders of Greifen-
stein were in the highest spirits. They saw
their foe wasting his strength against their
impregnable rock and were paying him back
for the ruin wrought on other strongholds.
Oswald seems to have been the soul of the
defence, although some of his companions in-
dignantly charged him with having neglected
to push their interests at the Imperial Court.
Nevertheless, all found him invaluable in the
present emergency. His military experience
was naturally wider than that of home-staying
nobles. He was full of resource, knew the
use of gunpowder, and had brought from
the East the secret of the dreaded Greek
fire.

66 Oswald von Wolkenstein

No chronicler records the exact duration of
this first siege of Greifenstein, but evidently
it dragged on for several months. At last the
garrison determined to make an end of it, and
sallying forth one night in two bodies, captained
by Oswald and one of his kinsmen, attacked both
the besieging camps at the same moment.
Friedrich's troops were taken by surprise and,
in the midst of the struggle, showers of
rockets were shot from the castle walls and
set both camps ablaze. In a few moments
everything was in flames, and the panic-stricken
soldiers fled from the field dropping armour
and weapons, stripping off burning garments,
and vainly trying to escape from the horrible
Greek fire.

Thereupon Frederic was compelled to raise
the siege and beat a retreat with the miserable
remnant of his force. Oswald's War Song
"Hu, Huss" is a graphic record of the scene,
as well as of the rebels' bitter hatred of the
Duke, and their resolve to fight to the death
for their old privileges.

It may be roughly rendered as follows : —

Oswald von Wolkenstein 67

I

" Tally Ho ! cried Michael of Wolkenstein,
To the chase ! cried Oswald of Wolkenstein.
Up and at them ! cried Leonhard of Wolkenstein,
All shall be driven from Greifenstein.

II

" Now smoke and din, now raging flame
Poured down the gorge mixed with red blood.
The foe dismayed, shed arms and steel,
Flying for life, while ive rejoiced.
The siege works all, the huts and tents
Were burnt to ashes in the camps.
Who doeth ill, shall ill receive 'tis said.
And thus we pay thee back, Duke Friedrich."

Other verses follow enumerating the various
bands who had broken faith with the League
and joined in the siege of Greifenstein. A note
of triumphant defiance resounds in every rugged
line, and the poem concludes with the words :

" They thought to bind us captive.
But theirs was the defeat."

VI

The foe being completely routed, camp and
war material destroyed, the assembled Leaguers
left the virgin fortress safe in its masters' care and
quickly dispersed — their rejoicing being tempered
by sore anxiety as to the fate of their own pos-
sessions. Some of their castles indeed were
already captured by the Duke, others half
ruined, and as we already know, part of
Hauenstein had been burnt and sacked. Mean-
while the disastrous siege of Greifenstein had
taught Friedrich a lesson by which he made
haste to profit, for with unexpected statecraft
he now adopted fresh tactics. Although per-
sistently hostile to our hero, he proceeded to
make amicable advances to other members of
the Bund and patched up a shallow peace with
them. Through the mediation of Duke Ernest
of Bavaria he even made truce with the Starken-
bergs. But he was only biding his time until

68

Oswald von Wolkenstein 69

the fit moment arrived for stamping out the
rebellion. Already his position was improved
by the election — November 141 7 — of Martin V.
to the Papal Chair. For the new Pontiff was
well-disposed towards him, and as Cardinal
Colonna, had proved his good will at Constance
by loudly protesting against the unjust treat-
ment inflicted on him by the Council.

At this point we may digress for a moment
in order to sum up the history of Greifenstein,
for although that stubborn stronghold played
no farther part in Oswald's life, it remained a
focus of rebellion and a thorn in Friedrich's
side to the end of the civil war. The terms
of the truce notwithstanding, its lords con-
tinued to harry the surrounding country and
raid the Bozen caravans, and when Wilhelm
von Starkenberg also disregarded a summons
to appear before the General Assembly at
Siebeneich, it was decided to send special
envoys to Greifenstein to settle the matter
in an amicable way. Starkenberg promptly
supplied the necessary safe-conduct, and rely-
ing on its efficacy, the Burgomasters of Bozen

7© Oswald von Wolkenstein

and Hall climbed up to the castle. They were
courteously made welcome, and treated to
so lengthy a banquet that dusk had fallen
before they issued from the gates. With
hospitable care for their safety, Starkenberg
insisted on sending retainers to guide his
visitors down the steep mountain track, but
the men had secret orders to pitch them over
a precipice by the way. The crime was duly
accomplished, and when Starkenberg knew that
his commands had been carried out he clapped
his hands and exclaimed, "Thank God! We
have one foe the less ; Niklas " (the burgomaster
of Bozen) " wrought us much harm." But this
abominable murder, added to past misdeeds,
raised a storm of indignation and disgust
throughout the land. Friedrich again laid
siege to the treacherous castle, but it had
been copiously provisioned during the truce,
and held out for eighteen months. The con-
fident garrison made frequent sorties, terrorising
both Bozen and Meran by deeds of bloodshed
and rapine, and it seemed impossible to reduce
the eyrie by famine.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 71

Once, either in mocking memory of their
portly victim poor Master Niklas, or to show-
that their larder was well stocked, the Starken-
bergs hurled down a fat porker into the
besiegers' camp, and to this day the Greifen-
stein ruin is best known by its local name
of the " Sauschloss " (Swine Castle).

Some time during the siege, the fierce Ulrich
von Starkenberg died. His death was kept
secret, but soon afterwards Wilhelm left the
castle and fled to Austria. The garrison held
out for a while, but, daunted by Friedrich's
tremendous preparations for storming the walls,
finally offered to surrender on condition of being
allowed to march out scot-free, and opened the
impregnable gates in 1426.

The fall of Greifenstein proved the death-
blow of the League, for by that time most of
its members were crushed and even the proud
Wolkensteins had been compelled to swear
fealty to the Duke. Wilhelm von Starkenberg
— the last of his line — obtained a free pardon
from Friedrich's successor, Duke Sigismund,
and, about 1440, returned to his country, a

72 Oswald von Wolkenstein

beggared, homeless old man. The rulers of
Tirol left Greifenstein to decay and, nowadays,
one or two ruined towers and fragments of
walls are all that remain of this robbers' nest
and virgin stronghold of the Adelsbund.

Oswald's return to Hauenstein in 141 7 after
the dispersion of Friedrich's army was by no
means a joyful home-coming. Part of the
building had been destroyed, much valuable
property had been looted, and wholesale repairs
were needed with no present hope of obtaining
compensation. Domestic cares were pressing
on him, and for all her valiant temper, his wife's
health was impaired by her exciting experiences
at Greifenstein. So he could no longer regard
his woodland castle with honeymoon eyes.
Now the place he had once loved so dearly
became positively hateful to him, for it was
practically a prison. He had less liberty there
than behind the Starkenberg walls, and was
hardly safe at a bow-shot from his own ramparts.
His position altogether was worse than un-
certain, for although Friedrich's wrath against
him was kept in check for the moment by

Oswald von Wolkenstein 73

Sigismund's commands, all his enemies were on
the alert. Sabina Hausmann was noisily re-
asserting her claims upon Hauenstein, and it was
an open secret that Friedrich was her devoted
slave and eager to do her will. So Oswald
stormed and chafed; the glamour of life had
vanished, and although an heir was soon to be
born to him this fact only increased his anxieties.
He knew that his foes were busy, both at court
and among his fellow-nobles. Traps of every
sort were laid for him, and efforts made to stir
the peasantry against him as an enemy of the
people and the adherent of foreign potentates.
Terrifying rumours drifted up through the forest
and swelled to exaggerated proportions in the
seclusion of his home. Even his wife's loving care
could not dull the sting of frustrated ambition, and
at this period he seems to have been too much
worried to find relief in literary work.

Certainly there were good grounds for anxiety
and his fears were no phantoms of the poetic
imagination. He had also incurred the enmity
of a very powerful neighbour, the Bishop of
Brixen : partly by certain public remarks made

74 Oswald von Wolkenstein

at Constance on the corruption of the Church
and the action of prelates in worldly affairs, and
more, perhaps, by some scathing verses, de-
scriptive of the Bishop's hypocrisy, which were
very popular in Tirol. Therefore just now, in-
stigated by Friedrich who — fettered by imperial
orders — was glad to deal vicarious blows at the
object of his hate, the Bishop was thundering
against Oswald and threatening him with material
as well as spiritual reprisals. With all these snares
compassing him about it is no wonder that his
soul was heavy with trouble or that he longed
to escape from his mountain solitude. Both in
diaries and poems, the desponding Minnesinger
enlarges on the dreariness of his pine-girt rock,
especially when blockaded by ice and snow.
Winter-mountaineering being unknown in his
day, he complains of the impossibility of travers-
ing the frozen wilderness without climbing-irons
on his feet. The deadly stillness, with every
torrent ice-bound, was only broken by the
screams of his peacocks and the braying of
trains of asses bringing supplies to the castle.
Now and then one could faintly hear the rush

Oswald von Wolkenstein 75

of Eisack's flood in its distant valley, or some
trusty friend would force a way through the
snow-drifts to bring news from the city and
warning of fresh machinations on the part of
his foes.

In his fits of despair the poet must have been
ill to live with, and his Margaret must have
needed all her unselfish devotion and tact to
soothe the notorious Wolkenstein temper. Pro-
bably, however, she was ignorant of the worst
and never dreamed that even when her husband's
love was most ardent, his admiration of her
beauty and goodness most eloquently expressed,
the poison of Sabina's spells still burnt in his
veins. But now, as always, this high-souled
woman was a guardian-angel to the restless,
excitable man, in whose brain poetic visions,
dreams of knightly perfection and mystic beliefs
were so strangely interwoven with political
ambitions and cravings for glittering courts and
royal favours. Happily for her, she had seen
something of the world, in her maiden days,
and had probably observed that model husbands
were rare. At any rate she adored her poet.

76 Oswald von Wolkenstein

wrestled with his fits of depression and usually
managed to charm them away. Even when
furious moods were on him she was able to say
with a smile "that the Wolkenstein rage was
a good-natured thing (ein gutmiithig Ding)."
Certainly Oswald's temper was mild compared
with that of his younger brother, for when
Leonhard was stirred to wrath, he exploded like
a bombshell, and his household flew to shelter
under tables, upstairs, out of doors — anywhere
in fact — beyond reach of his fist.

At the close of 1417 — that year of varied
events, a son was born to the poet, and this
first of seven children, Oswald II., was destined
to be the founder of the present Wolkenstein-
Rodenegg line. Paternal cares, as we have
hinted, only sharpened the elder Oswald's
anxieties; but his vahant wife roused his
courage, and soon afterwards the production
of numerous poems, grave, gay, amorous and
idyllic, proved that he was making the best of
his enforced seclusion. He again recurred to
that fevourite Minnesinger theme : the joys of
spring, and his descriptions of the awakening of

Oswald von Wolkenstein 77

Nature from winter's sleep are full of observant
touches. Sterner subjects also drew his atten-
tion when the Hussites were in arms, for he
had always abhorred their doctrines.
His fiery diatribe —

" Ich hab gehort durch mangen grauss,"

was written in 141 9.

About the same time our hero also found
vent for his energies in another direction. Duke
Friedrich being too busy just then in attack-
ing his obstinate foes, the Spaurs, to meddle
with the Wolkensteins, Oswald profited by the
opportunity to seize a small estate near Vols,
a few miles from Hauenstein, belonging to
Sabina's brother, Martin J'ager. And finding
that Friedrich turned a deaf ear to the rightful
owner's complaints and showed no intention of
resuming hostilities against Hauenstein, the rest-
less poet went off to Hungary, ostensibly for
the purpose of serving in the campaign against
the Hussites, but really to implore Sigismund to
intervene in Tirolese affairs and appeal to the
states of the Empire against Friedrich's rule.

78 Oswald von Wolkenstein

The three envoys sent to plead the cause of the
nobles were Oswald von Wolkenstein, Ulrich
von Starkenberg and H. von Schlandersberg.
The secret of their mission, however, was care-
fully kept, and they marched openly through
Tirol with a considerable following to serve
their Kaiser in the field. But, once across the
frontier, the three delegates pushed on to V ienna
to interview the ruling Duke of Austria, Albert
V. This prince, was a man of high character,
renowned as a champion of justice and peace,
and always sided with his father-in-law, Sigis-
mund, against his cousin Friedrich. So after
hearing the envoys' eloquent exposition of their
case, he readily confirmed the Patent of " Special
Privilege " that had been granted in 1406 to the
nobles of the Inn and the Etsch by Friedrich's
predecessor, Duke Leopold.

Seeing that the Tirolese nobles held most of
their lands in fee from Duke Friedrich, who
as Count of Tirol was their over-lord, it is
clear that they had no right to submit their
patent to Albert of Austria, nor he any right
to confirm it. The delegates themselves were

Oswald von Wolkenstein 79

fully conscious of the illegality of the act; so
much so, indeed, that Oswald hastened on to
Hungary to ask more valid support from the
Kaiser. But on the day of Wolkenstein's
arrival, Sigismund chanced to be holding a
council of war, so our hero was kept waiting
for many hours in the ante-chamber of the
Council Hall. At last, tired of kicking his heels,
he obtained the desired audience by a truly
characteristic expedient. Noticing that the
stove by which he was sitting served to heat
the adjoining hall, he stoked it so vigorously
from a pile of logs in the corner, that before
long Sigismund came hurrying out with beaded
brow to get a little air. Finding his old friend
Oswald meekly waiting — at some distance from
the stove, we may be sure — he welcomed him
cordially and gave a patient ear to his petition.
Then, after seriously warning him that Sabina
was his worst enemy at Friedrich's court, he
promised to assist the Bund at some future date ;
but frankly stated that he could give no atten-
tion to Tirolese matters with the Bohemian war
on his hands. That once concluded, he would

8o Oswald von Wolkenstein

do his best for the nobles. This seemed
encouraging news to Oswald, for no one then
foresaw that the Hussite war would drag on
for years and absorbing Sigismund's energies
for the rest of his reign, leave Friedrich a free
hand in Tirol.

Together with one or two fellow-members
of the Bund, Wolkenstein followed his Kaiser
to Bohemia, fought in several battles and held
the castle of Misserad against the Hussites for
several months, repulsing every attempt of the
besiegers to carry it by storm. But Sigismund's
army being utterly routed while on the march
to the relief of Misserad, the brave garrison was
starved out and forced to surrender with the
honours of war.

We have no space to follow our hero's steps
through the many weary vicissitudes of this
disastrous crusade. Even as his imperial chief,
he emerged from them in an extremely battered
condition, and in the autumn of 1420, was
thankful to return to his own land. All was
well at Hauenstein with his Margaret and the
babes, but public affairs, as regarded the cause

Oswald von Wolkenstein 8i

of the nobles, were very disquieting. For
during his absence, Duke Friedrich had profited
by the cessation of imperial interference with
his methods, and used his free hand to good
effect against the rebel leaders. Lodron and
some other of the confederates were practically
crushed, and even the formidable Spaurs reduced
to apparent submission. But old Peter von
Spaur of Nonsburg proved a wilier foe than
the equally irreconcilable Starkenbergs. After
being stripped of his high office of Captain of
the Etsch in 141 8, Spaur continued to defy
the prince's authority by raiding the lands of
loyal subjects. Many of his adherents, how-
ever, fell off on the death of his ally, the aged
Bishop of Trent, for the latter's successor sided
with Friedrich and greatly increased his power
by ceding to him all the fiefs of the diocese
which had been formerly held by Heinrich von
Rottenburg. So Spaur and Lodron being left
almost isolated, had been forced to come to
terms with their sovereign. Persuaded that
he had cut their claws, Friedrich was content
to deal gently with the worsted rebels. He

82 Oswald von Wolkenstein

granted them peace on condition that they
swore fealty and did due homage to him as
their over-lord. A formal treaty was accord-
ingly drawn up providing for the reciprocal
restitution of captiu-ed territories and strong-
holds; for reciprocal pardon of injuries and
exchange of prisoners, and authorising Spaur
to retain possession of the family castle of
Alt-Spaur pending the verdict of the civil
tribunal. In fact, every clause was arranged
as though the " high-contending parties " had
been potentates of equal standing. This was
an excellent stroke of policy on Friedrich's
part, and the younger Spaurs willingly sub-
scribed to his terms. But rugged old Peter,
the head of the house, while seeing the obvious
necessity of allowing his sons to conform to
the new order of things, could not abase his
feudal pride to the point of owning himself
subject to the law, and at this moment it was
announced that he had suddenly died of despair.
Yet, while his sons swore allegiance to their
sovereign and were ranked among the loyal
of the land, old Count Peter was not only a

Oswald von Wolkenstein 83

living man but, safely hidden in his inaccessible
stronghold, eagerly plotting against Friedrich
with all the vigour of his prime. For six years
after his supposed decease, he was carrying on
a correspondence with the Wolkensteins of
Trostburg and his letters are still preserved
in their archives.

It was only in 1426, on learning that Michael
von Wolkenstein had made submission to the
Duke, that old Spaur gave up the game and
turning his face to the wall, died truly of
despair. It is worth noting that, while one
rebel lord shammed death, the genuine decease
of fierce Ulrich von Starkenberg was kept
secret for almost the same length of time,
so that the defenders of Greifenstein might
still benefit by the prestige of his name.

VII

Oswald's strength had been sorely tried by the
hardships of his Bohemian campaigns and his
spirits depressed by the impossibility of inducing
the Kaiser to intervene in Tirol. It must have
begun to dawn upon him that the Leaguers
were engaged in a lost cause; that feudal power
and privilege were already things of the past.
So, for a time, he stayed quietly at Hauenstein,
looking after his property, avoiding all contact
with his offended ruler, and limiting his journeys
to the family castles of Kastelruth, Trostburg,
etc., with an occasional flight up the Grodner-
thal to the remote Wolkenstein nest in the
Langethal where the first poetic dreams had
germinated in his infant brain. Dreams of a
sterner sort, and anxious discussions with
scattered members of the moribund League
were the motives of his present wanderings.
As we have seen already, domestic ties never

Oswald von Wolkenstein 85

held him long. Just for brief intervals, when
weary of turmoil and strife, his home seemed a
haven of rest; then he was content to bask in
the sunshine of his wife's tenderness, was again
her ardent lover, and took pride in the sturdy off-
spring clustering about his knees ; for he was
now the father of three children. But black
care soon assailed him once more and robbed
him of peace. There was always the phuntom
cause of the Bund to lash him to action, in the
vain hope of wresting victory from defeat and
restoring the ancient splendours of his caste.
Then also there was the continual, gnawing
worry of that inherited dispute with the Jagers
and the necessity of fighting it out in order to
secure the estates to his children. For, as it
may be well to repeat, Oswald considered his
title to Hauenstein to be absolutely flawless.
His grandfather had paid a round sum for
the domain, settled it on himself at his birth,
ergo it was his own freehold property. He
contemptuously dismissed all assertions re-
garding the original subdivision of the estate
and the proportionate value of this or that

86 Oswald von Wolkenstein

share as fraudulent pretences on the part of
the claimants. Nevertheless the Jagers' pre-
posterous demands were a continual annoyance,
and became more clamorous than ever now
that the malicious Sabina was pushing Duke
Friedrich to support them by force.

One day, in the late autumn of 1421, just
when the first frosts were heralding the ap-
proach of wintry desolation, a letter from Sabina
reached Oswald at Hauenstein. It was a start-
ling epistle considering all that had happened,
for the lady wrote in the most persuasive terms,
imploring the knight to come to see her without
delay, and — for "old love's sake," — bring their
long dispute to a peaceful end.

Oswald's heart throbbed with pleasure on
receiving this missive. The vexed problem
was solved at last ! Nor, after the first moment,
did he feel much surprise. His social triumphs
as a minstrel and the devotion of his beautiful
young wife had not prepared him to conceive
doubts of his power over women. Of course,
Sabina had never really hated him, although
false to her vows. Womanly caprice, womanly

Oswald von Wolkenstein 87

vanity had been the motives of her long hostility.
He forgot to take into account the effect of
his own scathing satires on the lady's mode
of life ! So he impulsively accepted the
strange invitation. Had he been wise, he
would have consulted his wife first of all ;
but either gratified self-love or a twinge of
conscience sealed his lips on the matter.
Probably the sight of Sabina's pen-strokes had
stirred the smouldering embers of his former
passioii, and made the old spirit of adventure
tingle in his veins. At any rate, he thought
Sabina was clearly repentant. A friendly meet-
ing might do wonders, settle the weary con-
flict, and besides there would be the additional
triumph of outwitting Duke Friedrich ! So he
decided to say nothing to his Margaret. Even
the best of wives might be unreasonable where
another woman was concerned. Therefore,
under pretext of fulfilling a vow of pilgrimage
to some distant shrine, he left Hauenstein,
unarmed and alone. The appointed place of
rendezvous was the lonely tower of Enticlar,
off the valley of the Eisack, some miles from

88 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Trent. For so marked a rebel the journey
thither was dangerous, but he accomplished it
without molestation. The gate of Sabina's
little manor stood open before him, and Oswald
was about to cross the threshold, with some
pretty compliment to his hostess on his lips,
when he was suddenly attacked firom behind
by Martin Jager and two other knaves, felled
to the ground, and dragged bound and bleeding
to Sabina's feet.

The tale of this woman's treacherous revenge
recalls one of the most ferocious episodes of the
Nibelungen Lied.

The sorely wounded -man was loaded
with chains, and in this state was put to
torture all night, strung up to a beam by his
arms, while the fiendish Sabina exulted at the
sight of her victim's pain. This was her re-
venge for his satires, and one specially devised
for the purpose of extorting the amount of her
Hauenstein claims. The torture went on until
the sufferer's fortitude finally gave way and
he consented to give all she demanded : either
Hauenstein itself or 6,000 gulden. Then he

GyatL Innsbruck.

Castle of Forst, near Meran.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 89

was taken down from the rack and "chained
with irons three fingers thick," was thrown into
a damp dungeon. For some weeks he lay there
in agony, half-starved and almost done to death.
But then, dreading lest their prisoner's kinsmen
should come to the rescue, his captors secretly
conveyed him to Schloss Forst, near Meran,
where Jager filled the post of commandant. It
was the last place where his brothers would be
likely to seek him, inasmuch as it belonged to
the Starkenbergs, and no one would suppose
that any subordinate of theirs could dare to
use the stronghold as a prison for their own
best friend and ally. In fact, though sorely
alarmed by Oswald's disappearance, some time
elapsed before his wife and kindred got wind
of the atrocious outrage committed on him, or
learnt where he was to be found. To lodge the
prisoner in Castle Forst was an exceedingly crafty
stroke. For it was devised to kill two birds with
one stone, by provoking a rupture between the
Wolkensteins and Starkenbergs, and likewise
giving Duke Friedrich a pretext for charging
the latter with a breach of the patched-up peace.

90 Oswald von Wolkenstein

That Friedrich actually knew and approved
of the crime is shown by the fact that Sabina
only released her victim in order to hand him
over to the Duke, who kept him long shut up
in a state prison near Innsbruck.

Meanwhile, the first person to stir in
Oswald's behalf was Dame Ursula von
Starkenberg. Her husband being absent from
Tirol, she immediately despatched two nobles
to Forst, commanding Jager to release the
knight at once and severely reprimanding him
for daring to utilize a Starkenberg castle for a
private feud of his own. To which Jager had
the insolence to reply that he was detaining
Oswald in order to extort redress for injuries
received, and required a week's delay to study
the matter. Thereupon, Dame Ursula's friends,
who had been accompanied to Forst by some
leading burghers of Meran, insisted on seeing
the captive and were much surprised to find
him in tolerable spirits and decidedly unwilling
to be removed elsewhere. He evidently knew
that his real jailor was the Duke and that
his own friends were powerless to set him

Oswald von Wolkenstein 91

free. Life, at least, he added, was safe within
Starkenberg walls, whereas anywhere else it
would be gravely imperilled.

Also, when the envoys urged that, meanwhile
poor Dame Ursula was in sore danger, seeing
that Oswald's brothers were raging against the
Starkenbergs and vowing vengeance on them
all, root and branch, the poet philosophically re-
marked that his kinsmen's threats couldn't break
his prison bars; that he was pledged to pay
ransom, and would write on the matter to his
brothers, and, necessarily, to the Duke. His
visitors were amazed by Oswald's stoical
resignation to his fate, but, probably, his diplo-
matic reserve was caused by uncertainty as to
Friedrich's actual share in the outrage. Doubt-
less he had strong suspicions on that head but
deemed it wiser to conceal them for the nonce.
Though sadly changed in appearance, his wounds
were now healed ; he made no complaint of ill-
treatment and was decently lodged.

It was a puzzling situation altogether, and
the zealous friends who had hoped to bear
Oswald away in triumph, were constrained to

92 Oswald von Wolkenstein

leave him in his cage and take their departure
baffled and furious. We can imagine how
Jager showed them to the gate with mocking
courtesy and respectful excuses to his most
noble Lady Ursula, and also with what feelings
the party spurred back to Meran to recount the
failure of their mission, and the incomprehensible
apathy of the victim.

In reality, Oswald's resignation was only a
mask imposed by prudence, for he was suffering
intensely, torn by contending emotions of rage,
indignation and above all remorse for the sinful
folly that had led him blindfold into the
cunningly devised trap. His true sentiments
are expressed in certain appeals to heaven
written during his detention at Forst. In
another poem of the same period he mocks
at his woes, relating how, once upon a time
the fair Sabina had twined a fine golden chain
about his arm in token of her love. But now,
those tender passages all forgot, she showed
her favour in a different guise, binding him with
iron chains "three fingers broad."

While Dame Ursula's envoys made their

Oswald von Wolkenstein 93

fruitless journey to Forst, the poor lady herself
was hurrying to Innsbruck to assert her innocence
as to Oswald's capture, little guessing that her
sovereign was rejoicing over the brutal device
that had lured his enemy into his hands. But
the Wolkensteins, having discovered that their
brother had been kidnapped with the Duke's
sanction, lost no time in planning characteristic
reprisals.

The Arch-priest of Neustift, one of Friedrich's
most trusted counsellors, was deputed by his
master just then to attend a court of justice in
Bozen to decide an important case as his repre-
sentative. He set out, accordingly, but never
reached Bozen. Leonhard von Wolkenstein
pounced on him by the way and conveyed him
to his castle of Aichach. Then, mounting the
prisoner's horse, he rode over the hills to Vols,
seized the parish priest of that place, who was also
devoted to the Duke, and after sacking the par-
sonage carried off his second prize to share the
other's captivity. Next, Michael and Leonhard
sent a politely worded missive to Friedrich in-
forming him that his deputy was unavoidably

94 Oswald von Wolkenstein

prevented from attending the Bozen tribunal,
and would remain in their hands until Oswald
was released and the Jagers brought to account
for his capture. Provided the Duke complied
with these requests, the Wolkensteins' best in-
fluence should be exerted to obtain the Kaiser's
pardon for the Duke's share in the outrage
committed on an officer of the Imperial Court.

Friedrich's reply is unknown to us, but as the
imprisoned ecclesiastic was quickly released, it
seems to have been satisfactory, unless indeed,
on reflection, the Wolkensteins deemed it best
to trust to the prince's honour. At any rate they
were deceived, for instead of setting Oswald
free, Friedrich merely transferred him to a
state prison " there to be detained until judg-
ment should be delivered on the Hauensiein
suit."

This breach of faith naturally raised the
Wolkensteins' fury to the highest pitch, and
Michael's next step is a striking illustration of
the attitude assumed towards their sovereign by
the nobles of Tirol. For he promptly sent an
open challenge, or rather declaration of war, to

Oswald von Wolkenstein 95

Duke Friedrich in which after setting forth his
wrongs, he proceeds to say: "for the which
reasons, I do hereby proclaim myself your enemy
and in alliance with all your foes."

Meanwhile a bull of excommunication had
been launched against Leonhard for his illegal
seizure of the Duke's consecrated envoy; and
although he professed total indifference, declaring
that the ban of the Church had loosened no stone
of his castle walls, he was not sorry when it was
finally removed by the intercession of friendly
prelates. In spite of preceding femily quarrels,
both Michael and Leonhard rallied staunchly to
their brother's support at this juncture. But
neither their personal efforts nor the liberal bail
offered by the friendly burghers of Meran could
loosen the grip of Friedrich's claws. Next, a
formal appeal was made to the Kaiser which
gave a new turn to the affair. For, stirred to
the hottest indignation, Sigismund regarded the
outrage done to his faithful servant as a personal
insult, declared that the Duke had no case against
Oswald and insisted on the latter's immediate
release. He also ordained that the Starkenbergs

96 Oswald von Wolkenstein

should be reinstated in the possessions "of
which they had been unlawfully stripped," and
again threatened the Duke with the ban of the
empire.

Friedrich replied that, as over-lord of Tirol,
he was entitled to deal as he chose with re-
bellious vassals, while professing, nevertheless,
the truest allegiance to his Emperor. And
regardless of all menaces he firmly refused to
nullify the advantages gained over the nobles by
restoring the Starkenberg strongholds. As he
probably knew, Sigismund was too impoverished
to be able to fulfil his threat of arming the Swiss
against Tirol.

So the barons in general being left to their
own resources trembled for their landed interests
in case of war, and as the Duke's resolute
attitude was staunchly backed by the third
estate, all danger of invasion was averted.

The Wolkensteins however were of a differ-
ent mind. They determined to resist Friedrich's
pretensions to the last extremity, and Trostburg
became the centre of a fresh conspiracy that
developed into the Nobles' League of the i8th

Oswald von Wolkenstein 97

July 1423. About the same date, Sigismund,
equally determined to reduce the troublesome
Duke to submission, ordered Haupt von Pappen-
heim to march against Friedrich and take
possession of his territories on the Inn and the
Eisack as reverted fiefs of the empire. This
step encouraged the rebel barons to count
on the restoration of the old privileges and
"immediacy" enjoyed by their caste in Tirol,
previous to the downfall of the Rottenburg
house. But, after all, the imperial campaign
was never undertaken. As usual, the Kaiser's
money-chest was empty, and so the princes of
the empire promptly vetoed his plan. Friedrich,
meanwhile, had stormed a stronghold of the
rebels in the Vintschgau, and defeated their
old ally, Paris von Lodron and his Italian
mercenaries in the Val dl Non, thereby proving
to the nobles that it was time to make sub-
mission. And the argument was clenched at
the next Assembly of the States at Meran,
when the Bund was proclaimed as a criminal
association, and its immediate dissolution de-
creed. But a rider was tacked on to this

G

98 Oswald von Wolkenstein

decree in the shape of a general amnesty to
all rebels, the Starkenberg brothers alone
excepted.

Thanks to this opportune measure, Friedrich's
victory over the nobles was assured.

VIII

During all these stirring events, our hero
remained in durance and was only set free
when the amnesty took effect towards the
close of 1423. The story of his imprisonment
is so tangled a skein, that on many points it
is left hopelessly involved. According to all
modern ideas of justice and law, it would be
obvious that, as the victim of a private and
peculiarly atrocious act of vengeance, Oswald
was entitled to protection from the ruler of
the land, in spite of past offences as a rebel,
and in spite of having served his Kaiser better
than he served his own sovereign. But, since
Friedrich also was wreaking a private revenge,
there was no question of justice in the matter.
Sabina's treachery having betrayed Oswald in
his power, he held him captive for his own
satisfaction and used every pretext to retard
the day of release. Imperial threats and Wol-

loo Oswald von Wolkenstein

kenstein reprisals only heightened his fury
against the poet, and we may be sure that
"the woman in the case" envenomed the
question with stings of retrospective jealousy.
For the Duke's eagerness to support the Jager
claims on Hauenstein was the emptiest of pre-
texts. Whether just or unjust, they mattered
nothing to him; but they served the purpose
of keeping a formidable opponent hors de
combat^ during his struggle with the barons.
In fact, when the amnesty set Oswald free,
the Hauenstein suit was practically ignored,
although, during the interim, Michael and
Leonhard had made so many forays on Jager
lands that Martin was continually urging the
Duke to settle the case, alleging that the
prisoner's kinsmen were always threatening his
life.

We are told nothing of Dame Margaret's
attitude during her husband's captivity. Even
so large-hearted and indulgent a wife may have
found it hard to excuse Oswald's silence as to
the goal of his unlucky pilgrimage. In the
midst of her alarm at his strangely prolonged

Oswald von Wolkenstein loi

absence, the fact of learning that he had gone
to visit the woman who had blighted his youth,
was surely enough to stir resentment in even
the meekest of her sex. And Margaret of
Schwangau was no meek Griseldis. Oswald
continually styles her "his proud Swabian."
She loved greatly, greatly forgave, but thoroughly
realised that she had much to forgive. This,
however, was the usual lot of good wives in
those days, and she never seems to have ex-
pected that her restless poet-politician should
live up to the beautiful sentiments expressed
in his verse. Probably her just anger with
him had long merged into hot wrath against
his persecutors before he returned to her.
Besides, he came home to Hauenstein in a
pitiable state, limping on crutches, with one leg
permanently lamed by Sabina's cruel fetters.
During his confinement, he had had time for
self-examination, had repented the errors of
his ways, and was full of remorse for all his
offences against his dear wife.

His faded ideals now bloomed afresh and
in subsequent poems he dates the end of his

I02 Oswald von Wolkenstein

"sinful doings" from the beginning of his
captivity in 14.21.

Soon after his release Sabina Hausmann
suddenly died, and Oswald was moved to
tears by the news. "May God forgive her
all the ill she wrought on me, body and soul,"
was his dirge for the evil genius of his life.
Was this pious sentiment echoed by his wife ?

Oswald could pardon a dead foe, but his
enmity towards Friedrich was as determined
as ever. He was soon engaged in fresh plots
to restore the old order in Tirol, and being
obstinately mediteval on this head, failed to
comprehend the movement of the times. Never-
theless, Friedrich made various amicable ad-
vances to him; and in 1424 specially invited
him to attend a Diet called for the purpose
of settling the Starkenberg case. But Oswald
was far from Tirol when the gracious summons
reached his gates. Leaving domestic matters
to his wife's able management, and the ever-
lasting Hauenstein-Jager strife to his brothers'
mailed fists, he had gone to Germany on a fresh
attempt to rouse the states of the empire to

Oswald von Wolkenstein 103

arms against Friedrich. Halting at Salzburg,
he was eagerly welcomed by the Prince-
Archbishop, and although nearly sixty years
old, crippled and suffering, astounded the bril-
liant court by his youthful spirit, his fine
verses, and his wonderful voice. At Munich,
Augsburg, and Ulra grand entertainments were
held in his honour ; so, dazzled by social
homage and some vague words of sympathy
for the Tirolese nobles, he felt assured of
succeeding in his mission. As usual, his
artistic temperament beguiled him with false
hopes and extravagant ideas of his personal
influence. But, one day at Ulm, a rough
disillusion compelled him to see himself from
another point of view. When one of his
warmest admirers eagerly presented him to
his young wife, the lady glanced disdainfully
at the famous Minnesinger and brusquely ex-
claimed :

"That fellow! What is there to admire
in this shabby old cripple?"

With a courteous bow poor Oswald retorted:
"True, honoured Lady, I am half blind and

I04 Oswald von Wolkenstein

meanly clad. Yet it is scarce seemly to measure
a man by his outward appearance."

He then went on to Heidelberg where his
old friend the Pfalzgraf Ludwig received him
with open arms, gave him a bed in his own
chamber — possibly on one of . those sleeping
shelves for guests which one usually finds
attached to mediseval German bedsteads — and
replaced his mean clothes with purple robes
and rich furs. As great festivities were going
on and five prince-electors assembled at Ludwig's
court, Oswald hoped to gain many votes for the
Empire's intervention in Tirolese affairs. But
although heartily welcomed and flattered as a
poet, he had to be content with artistic triumphs.
While all applauded his minstrelsy no one
espoused his political ideas. Nevertheless, he
lingered six months in the hospitable Rhine-
land before carrying his suit to the imperial
tribunal at Presburg. This time, however, his
Kaiser was not glad to see him and was de-
cidedly cold. For, being at odds with the
electoral body, and his prestige weakened by
the obstinate Hussite rebellion, Sigismund re-

Oswald von Wolkenstein 105

cognised the necessity of conciliating Duke
Friedrich even to the point of sacrificing his
"faithful servant." So Oswald's best en-
treaties fell on deaf ears, and in February
1425 Kaiser and Duke concluded a solemn
pact of amity at Schloss Hornstein. After this,
however, Sigismund undertook to call a Diet
at Vienna to forward Oswald's views and
finally granted him a long-implored safe-conduct.
But dreading the results of the Hornstein
convention Oswald failed to appear at Vienna.
Thereupon Friedrich sent him a furious letter
censuring his insolence in absenting himself
from the Diet, and charging him with un-
lawful detention of the Hauenstein domain
regardless of the pledges he had given on
being released from prison. For, as might
have been expected, the announcement of the
new Diet had encouraged Jager to press his
claims more urgently than ever.

Friedrich's power was growing apace, the
Adelsbund almost stamped out, and, presently,
when cautious Michael, head of the Wolken-
steins, voluntarily tendered submission and under-

io6 Oswald von Wolkenstein

took to make his brothers do the same, the
Duke must have felt that his sovereignty was
assured. Details are lacking, but — probably
with the Kaiser's assistance — Oswald came to
terms about this time with his offended ruler,
since early in 1426 we find him acting as
mediator between the Duke and the Starken-
bergs. But the latter were stubborn; their
flag still waved defiance from the towers of
Greifenstein, and Oswald withdrew into private
life harassed by presentiments of evil. By
this time his last illusions must have vanished
with regard to the League, and the death of
his dear friend and father-in-law, stout Ulrich
von Schwangau, was a sore grief to him as well
as to his wife. But this sad event brought
one pleasant novelty in its train. Henceforth,
our poet and his family spent many months
every year at Schloss Neuhaus, now inherited
by his wife. This estate is in the Taufers
Thai, which, in Duke Friedrich's time, was
beyond the Tirolese border. Neuhaus is
charmingly situated on the sunny side of the
mountains near the mouth of the valley.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 107

looking across a cheerful river to castled slopes,
and commanding grand views of the Pusterthal
Dolomites. Even now its ruined towers have
a friendly air. A cosy farmhouse nestles
within its broken walls, and the ancient church,
being too small to accommodate the inhabitants
of a widely scattered parish, mass is served
at an altar in the porch, while the congregation
assembles on the green that was once the
castle-yard. But Oswald's first sojourn here
was short enough, for towards the end of 1426
even this retreat beyond the border was no safe
abode. The surrender of Greifenstein had
destroyed the last stronghold of the Bund in
South Tirol, and now Oswald's brother-in-law,
Parcival von Weineck, the chief of the rebel
party in the Innthal, had been brought to his
knees, forced to sell fortress and lands to the
Duke and to swear allegiance at Innsbruck.
Oswald was counselled to do the same and
warned that the victorious Duke would make
short work of all remaining rebels. What was
to be done ? It was impossible to continue the
revolt single-handed ! Another appeal must be

io8 Oswald von Wolkenstein

made to the Kaiser ! Should that fail, well, he
could go on to Spain and fight as before for the
Cross.

Crusading, as we know, was Oswald's panacea
in every crisis of his life. So, once more bidding
farewell to wife and children, he started off
secretly through Tirol. But the watchful Jager
was on the alert and apprised by his spies of
Wolkenstein's movements, obtained the Duke's
leave to seize him as an absconding debtor, on
account of the still unsettled Hauenstein claims.

Accordingly our hero was only a few miles
north of Innsbruck and just congratulating him-
self on having covered unmolested the worst
part of his journey, when he was suddenly
set upon by a band of armed men, unhorsed
and dragged a prisoner to Schloss Vellenburg.
The unlucky knight was very roughly handled
by Jager's hirelings, who, regardless of his rank,
to say nothing of his position in the Kaiser's
service, hacked the spurs from his heels, loaded
him with chains, and thrust him into an under-
ground cell. Again the victim of a private
feud, he lay some days in this damp hole racked

Oswald von Wolkenstein 109

with rage and despair and in real danger of an
ignominious death.

Recounting this episode in verse, he declares
that " the capture of an imperial officer is no
less a crime than the theft of imperial treasure."
Farther on he writes jestingly of his plight and
of the precautions used to prevent his escape,
adding that although fettered so straightly
he can still comport himself with knightly
courage.

Then, one evening, he was brought out,
hoisted on horseback, roped to the saddle
and led through the darkness to Innsbruck.
"Truly a fine Prussian crusade to court," he
says, in allusion to his earliest campaign.

This time also Jager's men served as Friedrich's
sleuth-hounds, for they conveyed their prisoner
straight to the Duke's palace. Hustled in like
a criminal through the backyard, he was lodged
in a dark narrow den too low to allow him
to stand upright. Condemned to a crawling
posture, he tried to find comfort in recalling a
certain brilliant festivity at the French court
when he voluntarily approached Queen Isabel

no Oswald von Wolkenstein

on his knees. He spent three weeks in this
wretched cell, with the added torment of his
jailor's company, " who stuck to me like vermin,"
and was a man of the coarsest and dirtiest habits.
But it is clear that Oswald had the use of
another room at meal times, inasmuch as he
tells us that various menials, male and female,
sat with him at table and that his jailor usually
got drunk. So being forced to eat from the
same bowl, the poor poet turned with loathing
from his food. "But a short while ago," he
writes, "I was a guest at the Pfalzgrafs board,
and have also had the honour of sitting beside
the Kaiser and being helped to salad from the
imperial plate."

It was a strange imprisonment, specially
devised, it would seem, to wound Oswald's
pride, and it throws a curious light on the
manners of the time. If there was any good
reason for the knight's arrest, he should have
been sent to a fortress ; but to keep him con-
fined in the servants' quarters, forced at night
to share his miserable bed with a tipsy ruifian
and to associate with rough varlets by day, was

Oswald von Wolkenstein 1 1 1

either a refinement of malice or a mediaeval joke
of the kind usually practised on jesters and fools.
In any case, Friedrich's treatment of his former
intimate, a man of high birth, European renown,
and the trusted friend of his Kaiser, showed a
despicable, personal spite altogether unworthy
of the ruler of Tirol. Sabina was dead, it is
true, but her influence still worked for ill. Her
favoured lover was taking revenge for the
scathing satires addressed to his concubine by
the man who had loved her in vain. And the
malice struck home.

A Wolkensteiner, a knight of the Holy
Sepulchre in the hands of kitchen varlets !
Rather the torture chamber! The ignominy
of it all inspired the worst forebodings in
the victim's mind. In fact some of Oswald's
bitterest foes were in high favour at court and
rumours had reached him that his death was
decreed.

Fortunately Friedrich's leading advisers were
opposed to violent measures, and several foreign
potentates pressingly insisted on the poet's
release.

1 1 2 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Then Michael von Wolkenstein and other
kinsmen came to intercede for him in person, and
— also very fortunately — many former friends,
still rebels at heart, refrained from any effort in
his favour, deeming that the overthrow of
the Bund was entirely due to some mismanage-
ment on Oswald's part of the final appeal to
the Kaiser. For some time the Duke refused
to listen to a word in his prisoner's favour,
next began to hesitate between mercy and
revenge, and then, suddenly discovering one day
that all anger was spent, recalled his old love
and admiration for Oswald, and when a courtier,
thinking to please him, urged the necessity of
making an end of " the pestilent rebel," he
impulsively cried :

"Dost think that men such as Oswald are
easy to replace? 'Tis a fool's thought, mein
Herr." And turning to one of the Council, he
shouted :

"How long is Oswald to be kept in a
cellar awaiting judgment? His misery does
no good to us. We yearn for some lively hours
with our minstrel. We must sing and make

Oswald von Wolkenstein 113

verses together in praise of fair women. If the
oath of allegiance he has to swear in return for
our pardon be not yet drawn up, have it made
ready at once."

Thereupon a friendly chancellor hastened to
the prisoner with the ducal message and re-
moved him from his wretched den.

Oswald's first impulse was to reject Friedrich's
advances ; but the chancellor used strong argu-
ments, and on adding that his master had been
" sore troubled to lose thy songs," the poet
meekly followed him to the presence chamber.
Friedrich welcomed the haggard old man with
such gracious friendliness that some of the
courtiers murmured at the prince's conde-
scension.

So Oswald was pardoned, and Friedrich had
the pleasure of sparing a redoubtable adversary
on terms that cut his claws and made him harm-
less for the future.

The deed of agreement was finally signed
and sealed at Innsbruck on the ist May 1427.
It comprised many documents, set forth the
Duke's reasons for showing mercy to so pro-

H

114 Oswald von Wolkenstein

rainent a rebel, and enlarged on the conditions
subscribed by Oswald. The most important
clause was that prohibiting the Ritter von
Wolkenstein from serving any foreign power,
or joining any league without his sovereign's
consent. And, in token of gratitude for his
release, he was pledged to make a campaign
against the Hussites or other enemies, at the
Duke's pleasure, contributing a certain number
of men-at-arms, and in case of being physically
unable to obey the command in person, was to
appoint some blood-relation as a substitute.

The Duke, on his side, restored the bail-
monies paid by Oswald's sureties in 1422.
At the tail of this agreement came a summary
decree putting an end to the J'ager versus
Wolkenstein suit after sixty years of litiga-
tion and strife.

Although verdict was given nominally for
the plaintiffs, Oswald practically won the case,
inasmuch as the 6,000 gold florins claimed by
the Jagers were cut down to the modest sum
of 500 ducats with restitution of the Grotthof
farm near Prossls that Wolkenstein had un-

Oswald von Wolkenstein 115

lawfully seized. The Jagers grumbled sorely,
but in vain. They were forced to accept the
verdict and formally renounce all pretensions
on Hauenstein, while their opponent paid them
the adjudged compensation on the spot. At
last Oswald was a free man and his children's
inheritance secured. For the first time after
many years he could breathe unoppressed by
care. Full of gratitude for his sovereign's
decision, he raised his head proudly, and cried
in a sounding voice : — " I thank Duke Friedrich
and will ever thank him, so long as I have
breath in my body."

The few days he remained at court were
illumined by an afterglow of the old friendship
with his lord and master. By common con-
sent all bitterness was forgotten ; they were
comrades again. The minstrel's songs were once
more applauded in Friedrich's halls, although
the " beautiful tenor voice " was now sadly en-
feebled by age and pain.

With characteristic generosity, the first use
Oswald made of his renewed privileges, was
to plead for the release of an unlucky baron

1 1 6 Oswald von Wolkenstein

who — for some slight complicity in a former re-
bellion — had been confined for nine years in
Schloss Vellenburg. There Oswald had been
his fellow-captive and moved to pity by his
sufferings.

The Duke readily granted the poet's prayer,
but only on condition that Oswald should stand
surety for the man and keep an eye on his
future proceedings. Accordingly, when Oswald
rode forth on his homeward journey, the liber-
ated baron went with him as his guest. We
may be sure that he was well received by the
kindly Dame Margaret and had his share in all
the family rejoicings on Oswald's return. For
now, the civil war ended, all danger ceased,
life and property secure, Hauenstein was freed
from its phantoms and at last a home of
peace.

IX

Although from this time forth Oswald was
a faithful subject to his sovereign, his activities
were by no means at an end. While still en-
joying the first rapture of recovered freedom in
his forest-home, a legitimate quarrel was forced
upon him by Ulrich von Petsch, the aggressive
Bishop of Brixen; and with Friedrich's full
sanction and support, he finally brought that
bad neighbour to terms.

Then, in 1430, he fulfilled the pledge given
in 1427 by marching to Hungary to do battle
with the Turks, after the end of the campaign
accompanied the Kaiser to the Reichstag at
Nuremberg in 1431, and subsequently served
under the Markgraf of Brandenburg in the
Bohemian war. This latter expedition entailed
severe hardships on our veteran knight, and
when the German force was put to rout on the
I St August by Procopius the Great, he barely

1 1 8 Oswald von Wolkenstein

escaped with life from the victorious Hussites.
Nevertheless his appetite for adventure being,
still unsated, we presently find him, in his quality
of imperial chancellor, attending Sigismund during
that monarch's blundering progress through Italy
for the purpose of assuming the iron crown at
Milan and the symbol of empire in Rome. The
enmities and hindrances blocking the Kaiser's
path are matters of history too well known to
call for detailed account in the present sketch.
That Sigismund should have managed to
achieve his purpose — after a fashion — despite
the open hostility of Pope Eugene IV., the
opposition of Venice, Florence and Savoy, the
perfidious advances of Duke Visconti of Milan
and the desertion of his eight hundred Swiss
guards, says much for the bull-headed tenacity
of this German prince. Our chief concern is
with Oswald's experiences in the imperial suite.
Owing to the emptiness of the Kaiser's purse,
his faithful followers fared badly. Hungry,
shivering, and friendless in the Italian palaces
so grudgingly opened to them, they thought
with yearning of their well-warmed northern

Oswald von Wolkenstein 1 1 9

homes. As usual, Wolkenstein's moods are
reflected in his poems, where he speaks bitter
words of Italian bad faith and lack of hospitality.
" Wouldst starve, lie on straw and end thy days
in strife, then come to Lombardy."

In Tuscany the expedition fared no better
until, in spite of Pope Eugene's endeavours to
check his advance, the Kaiser reached Siena on
the nth July 1432. Here, at least, he was a
welcome guest. The city received him with
open arms and made high festival in his
honour. But as Sigismund tarried there ten
months, at the State's expense, the public re-
joicing finally changed to loud outcry over the
cost of the monarch's entertainment. His visit
was ended at last by an opportune shifting of
the pieces on the political chessboard, when the
firmness of the Council of Basle, the enhanced
power of Visconti and the latter's reconciliation
with Florence and Venice, left the Pope deprived
of allies. Accordingly, in 1433, Eugene signified
his willingness to crown Sigismund in Rome ;
whereupon the States of the Empire despatched
a guard of honour to escort their Kaiser to the

I20 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Eternal City, and towards the middle of May
Sigismund departed from hospitable Siena with
a comfortably increased train. Nevertheless,
the march was by no means peaceful, owing
to the natural hostility between Germans and
Italians. When halting for the night at
Ronciglione in the house of a local magnate,
sixteen members of Sigismund's suite were
murdered by a mob of peasants and bravi
who forced the doors and surprised the guests
in their beds. Our hero, fortunately, had
been billeted elsewhere; but his friend and
colleague, Kaspar Schlick, only escaped assas-
sination by climbing from a window on to
the roof

At long-last Sigismund entered Rome, re-
ceived the coveted crown at the Vatican, and
re-crossed the bridge of St Angelo side by
side with the Pope. In August he set out
on his homeward journey and passed through
Tirol on his way to Basle. But his faithful
chancellor, finally wearied out, now resigned
office and gladly withdrew from public life.
By this time Oswald was sixty-seven years

Oswald von Wolkenstein 121

of age and burdened with sore infirmities.
But even at home little rest was allowed
him. Domestic affairs had fallen into some
confusion during his lengthy absence, and his
children cost him much anxiety. They were
seven in number and only two of them girls,
so, as may be easily imagined, five sturdy,
mountain -bred boys now demanded firmer
guidance than their mother's gentle rule.
Besides attending to family affairs, Oswald
was occasionally recalled to public service as
arbiter of difficult cases in which his know-
ledge of Tirolese law and usage and known
sense of justice specially qualified him to
pronounce judgment.

His good wife, Margaret, whose wisdom
equalled her tenderness, undoubtedly favoured
these official journeys. She had learnt by experi-
ence that domestic quiet tended to irritate rather
than soothe the restless Wolkenstein spirit, and
that prolonged seclusion made him feel too
cruelly the pains of old age.

In fact, one of Oswald's later poems contains a
realistic description of his physical decay : fail-

122 Oswald von Wolkenstein

ing eyesight, and so forth. His mind was still
vigorous, and after a period of self-analysis
and various attempts to achieve Christian
resignation, he sought comfort in Aristotelian
philosophy — which was far more congenial to
temperament — and also turned his attention to
the doctrines of Plato. An aged knight-errant
who had seen so many strange lands, experi-
enced such alternations of splendour and poverty,
of dazzling success and crushing humiliation,
whose mind, first imbued with mediseval preju-
dices, mediseval mysticism and poetic dreams, had
subsequently gleaned much learning, much
practical knowledge of mankind, and was able
to assimilate in old age some of the love and
statecraft of the Renaissance, must, certainly,
have found it hard to realize that the fulness of
life was past, and the grave already yawning at
his feet. No wonder that the wealth of his
memories had sometimes dimmed his perception
of the realities and duties of life. But in his
declining years this mental chaos was at last
reduced to order. Then, he surveyed the
past dispassionately, recognised the errors of

Oswald von Wolkenstein 123

reckless ambition, the miserable results of his
frenzied love for the unworthy Sabina and
humbly repented of his ill-doings. Indeed,
throughout his turbulent career, he had always
remained, at heart, a God-fearing and some-
what superstitious Tirolese. And never being
one to do things by halves, his repentance was
almost fierce in its thoroughness.

His devotional poems are full of scathing
reproval of the worldly aims once so dear to
him, and their bitterest notes express the woe
of loving a wicked woman. Evidently the
spells of his false Duessa endured beyond the
grave, for the aged singer was still haunted
by the memory of her seductions. This would
be pathetic, were it not so painful to know
that his true-hearted wife was still persecuted
by the malignant shade of her dead rival.

Several letters from Margaret to her husband,
found in the Wolkenstein archives and pub-
lished in 1880,1 prove the writer to have had
all the enchanting qualities attributed to her
in Oswald's love-songs.

1 Vide Anzeiger fiir Kunde der Devtschen Vorzeit, 1880.

124 Oswald von Wolkenstein

As a member of the Council of Regency
during the minority of Friedrich's successor,
Duke Sigismund, Wolkenstein was often called
to Bozen towards the close of his life, and
went there for the last time in June 1445.
His wife was very anxious about the state of
his health as he had been attacked by serious
symptoms, and she knew that he was making
strenuous efforts to defeat the plots of certain
fellow-counsellors. So, in one of her letters,
she tells him all she has heard of hostile
intrigues on foot against him at Kastelruth,
warns him to beware of certain men, consults
him on domestic affairs, implores her "heart's
dearest" to be careful of his health, and says
in conclusion :

"Should you have to stay longer at the
Council, pray, pray send for me, so that I may
come to your help. I cannot bear to be parted
from you any more, either here or elsewhere."

And the missive is addressed :

"To my beloved husband, The very noble
Knight Herr Oswald von Wolkenstein."

Shortly afterwards her Oswald came back to

Gnifl. Innsbnuh.
Ruined Keep of Hauenstein.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 125

her, rode — ^for the last time — up the steep forest
track to Hauenstein, and after some weeks of
great suffering, expired there in her arms, 2nd
August 1445.

There is a certain dramatic fitness in the fact
of his dying in the castle that had played so
important and evil a part in his life. "Without
that fatal birth-gift of Hauenstein he would
have escaped Sabina's wiles, and, as a portionless
younger son, probably lived and died a knight-
errant, unconcerned with home politics, and
content with triumphs of minstrelsy as "the
idle singer of an empty day."

The last of the Minnesingers was borne to
his rest at the loveliest moment of the mountain
summer, when the mighty peaks of the Schlern
were glowing under an August sun. Down
through the dark aisles of the mystic Hauen-
steiner Tann, where scarce rays of light could
pierce to banner or crucifix, the procession
passed silently over a carpet of pine-needles,
across fell, and field, through mourning Kastel-
ruth and by steep mountain tracks to the

126 Oswald von Wolkenstein

place of burial at Neustift near Brixen. No
trace survives of Oswald's grave; but the
monument he had built for himself, before going
to the East in 1408, still records the memory
of the crusader-poet in the cloister of Brixen
Cathedral.

Oswald von Wolkenstein stands as a repre-
sentative link between two notable periods of
the world's history. A mediseval man, touched
by Renaissance influences, the old feudal spirit
of Tirol was, so to say, buried in his grave.

The two royal contemporaries, the threads of
whose lives were so closely interwoven with his
own : King Sigismund and Duke Friedrich, had
both preceded him to the tomb.

His elder brother, Michael (" the Prudent "),
only died in 1451, at ninety years of age.
The three Wolkenstein brothers all left
children to continue the race, and Oswald's
descendants founded the present line of the
Counts of Wolkenstein and Rodenegg. Dame
Margaret survived her husband many years,
and, as the mother of five boys and two girls,
had ample scope for the strength of mind and

Oswald von Wolkenstein 127

soul that had so nobly sustained her through
manifold trials.

Some biographers, relying on Beda Weber's
authority, have not only asserted that Margaret
died at an early age, during Oswald's first
captivity, but attributed a second short-lived
wife to the poet. This theory however has been
triumphantly refuted by Noggler's recent re-
searches. Besides the letter we have quoted,
written by Margaret in the summer of 1445,
a later document has been found in the archives
of the von Trapp family of Churburg, bearing
the signature of "Margaret von Wolkenstein
born von Schwangau, relict of the late Herr
Oswald von Wolkenstein." ^

Hauenstein has been long deserted and in
ruins. All that remains of the famous strong-
hold is a shell of broken walls rising like a
grey shadow above the pine-tops of the tangled
forest. Peasants belated in the woods by
night, make the sign of the cross as they pass
the castle-rock, for they declare that Oswald's

1 Vide Brachvogel, Bllder aus Sud-Tirol. MUnchen,
1888.

128 Oswald von Wolkenstein

spirit still walks at Hauenstein and sotnetimes,
when the moon is at the full, may be heard
playing wild, sad music on his lute. At any
rate, some echo of his songs still survives in
German poetry.

X

The hardest part of our task has now to be
attacked, i.e.: an attempt at some appreciation
of Wolkenstein's poems and their due place in
literature. One reason for the long neglect of
his verses lies in their linguistic obscurity. To
the bewilderment of many philologists, Oswald
made no use of the Middle High-German rightly
to be expected from him, nor was he greatly
influenced by his native South Tirolese dialect.
On the contrary, he wrote the best High
German spoken by the cultured class in his
day, with the phraseology and arrangement of
sentences then colloquially in vogue. It was
the rough, expressive speech of a transition-
period, very diflferent from the soft, melodious
Middle High - German, and having more re-
semblance with the diction of the sixteenth,
than of the fourteenth or fifteenth century.
In fact, the original text of Walter von der

T 129

130 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Vogelweide (born 1 1 70) is easier to understand
than that of Oswald von Wolkenstein.

All this is clearly set forth by Herr Johannes
Schrott in a learned preface to his modernized
selection from Wolkenstein's poems.

The present writer is too slightly acquainted
with early German song to analyse the genesis
of the Minnesinger's art or the intricate niceties
it afterwards developed. But for our purpose,
it may suiBce to say that, of all Germanic lands,
Austria produced the richest harvest of popular
poetry during the Middle Ages, and that her
pre-eminence in the field is owed to two causes.
Firstly : to the mixture of races within her
borders, and secondly, to the number of her
wealthy monastic establishments which acted as
centres of culture and zealously fostered native
talent.

All this store of popular German poetry with
its simple delight in trees and flowers and the
joys of spring-tide, gradually changed into the
" worship of love " (Minnedienst)^ since love was
the fairest flower of spring.

" When woods are decked in softest green, —

Oswald von Wolkenstein 131

when bird-notes fill the air and all is bliss, —
comes love, the crown of May.

"Who would not fain be young at this
all magic time? — heart's love, lady mine, —
weave me quick a garland fine."

In course of time this " Minnedienst " be-
came the choicest flower of chivalry. For the
worship or service of love easily changed to the
worship or service of women in general, and
most easily among people on whose reverence
for women — in old heathen times — the worship
of the Virgin had been firmly engrafted. Every
true knight was vowed to the service and
championship of women and, theoretically, his
worship of her was platonic. A kind word or
smile from the lady whose badge he displayed
was held as sufficient reward for a life's devotion.
Naturally however the relations between brave
knights and fair women frequently sank to a
more earthly level. So too the love songs
inspired by this worship gradually lost spon-
taneity and were hampered by strict rules of
form and metre tasking the best hair-splitting
powers of contending minstrels. So, finally.

132 Oswald von Wolkenstein

these songs tripped, as it were, in fetters, and
the invention of some new device, or unexpected
juggling with words became an indispensable
condition of success.

In the early days of Walter von der Vogel-
weide's career, his simple, unstrained, melodious
verse raised him to the highest pinnacle of
fame ; but in later years we find him complain-
ing that fashions had changed, that now men
only cared for artificial, over-elaborated verse
and prized verbal quips more than sweet sounds
or lofty sense. Certainly the joyful Art had
sunk to a very low ebb when — nearly two
centuries later — Oswald von Wolkenstein
assumed the minstrel's lyre. He, however, had
been nourished on the old songs in childhood,
and while often adopting the style of the new
school, preserved the fi-eshness and graphic
force of an earlier period. But in pure poetic
quality he was vastly inferior to Walter, for his
diction was seldom musical, save in a few love
songs struck out in the white heat of passion.
Nevertheless, he had distinct and original merits
of his own, and was the most renowned Minne-

Oswald von Wolkenstein 133

singer of his time in South Germany, towering
head and shoulders above his fellow-knight and
fellow-poet Count Hugo von Montfort of
Bregenz. For Oswald's songs always ring true,
and the realistic strength with which they por-
tray not only his own temperament and moods,
but likewise the events and manners of his
day, endues them with great historical signifi-
cance. Roughly speaking and solely with
reference to style, one may rank the twelfth
century poet as the Tennyson, Oswald as the
Browning among Minnesingers, seeing that the
former excelled in melodious arrangement of
words and delicacy of technique, while the
latter, full of dramatic strength, satirical wit,
and a marvellous power of invective, is often so
wilfully rugged and careless of metrical effect
that his lines beat like sledge-hammers — at
least on modern ears. Yet our Wolkenstein
was a born musician, a skilled performer on
many instruments besides the traditional lute,
harp and fiddle proper to minstrels. His fine
tenor voice and exquisite singing conquered all
hearts, while as a musical composer, experts

134 Oswald von Wolkenstein

have adjudged him the title of " the pioneer of
modern melody" on the strength of his few
surviving songs.

By most of Wolkenstein's biographers his
poems are divided into three categories : his-
torical, erotic, and devotional; but the first of
the number is also auto-biographical and supplies
many curious details of his chequered career.

In spite of the well-nigh hopeless impossibility
of rendering the spirit of Oswald's verse in bald
English prose, we will attempt the translation of
a few typical poems.

By way of preface, here is the verdict pro-
nounced on Oswald by the learned biographer
and critic, Herr Johannes Schrott, to whom the
reading world is indebted for an excellent
modernized selection from our hero's works.

"No poet of the Middle Ages, Walter von
der Vogelweide excepted, had so wide a range
of thought as Oswald von Wolkenstein. The
well-nigh marvellous extent of his wanderings,
his habitual intimacy with the loftiest potentates
of his age, his participation in so many notable
contemporary events served to cultivate his mind,

Oswald von Wolkenstein 135

enrich his store of experience, and brace his
strength. Gifted with extraordinary force of
will he rushed into the battle of life while still
a child, and undismayed by frequent dangers and
defeats, always came out victor in the end. The
versatility of his powers and a happy sense of
humour rescued him from every difficulty: he
always knew how to adapt himself to circum-
stances and sit firmly in any saddle. Owing
everything to himself, inasmuch as he gleaned
profit from life's roughest lessons, he carved out
his own path and stood on his own feet. In
all dealings with princely patrons, he maintained
a sturdily independent attitude, never stooping
to the whining, supplicatory tone that so pain-
fully impresses us in the case of Walter von
der Vogelweide. In financial matters he was
a good manager, and had no trace of the un-
practical temper of Walter and other happy-go-
lucky mediaeval Minnesingers, since his knightly
expeditions and artistic travels were invariably
undertaken at his own expense. Notwithstand-
ing his long conflict with Duke Friedrich, and
the heavy loss incurred by the issue of the

136 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Hauenstein inheritance suit in 1427, the in-
ventory of his personal estate (as attested by
Dame Margaret after his death, 2nd August
1545) proves that his castle must have been a
sufficiently luxurious abode."

With reference to Oswald's youthful love
ditties and popular ballads, Herr Schrott, after
noting that many of these have been left in-
edited as too coarse for reproduction, then goes
on to say "that the total revulsion of ideas
and horror of past transgressions manifested by
Osv?ald during his cruel imprisonment in Sabina's
dungeon, led to no weakening of his poetic
power; but that, on the contrary, his subsequent
poems are, both in matter and form, the ripest
and most beautiful effiisions of his genius."

TRANSLATIONS

Late Autumn at Hauenstein

"With grieving am I deaf and blind since the first
bitter blasts proclaim that winter is enthroned
again. From window and door I see his approach
and feel small joy thereat. For the rough fiend
brings nought but cold and frost and snow — chok-
ing with ice the stream that falls from 'Boseier's
Haus.'i An evil name! Since no bird's warmth
can hatch good fruit from rotten eggs.

Green clover, grass and flowers are vanished
all, flown the winged choristers, since the woods
are stripped bare and the sullen sun forgets to
shine on Hauenstein."

Spring at Hauenstein
I
" Eased is the load from my heart now that
the snow drifts are gone and speeding down

1 Probably the familiar name of one of the small ice

fields of the Schlern. " Boseier " signifies rotten eggs.

137

138 Oswald von Wolkenstein

from Seiseralp — so Mosmair ^ brings me word.
Earth's vapours sleep no more — the waters leap
with mighty rush, from Kastelruth to Eisack's
bed, wherefore gladness is mine! I hear the
bird-folk great and small about my woods of
Hauenstein — sweet music swells their throats.
They sing, as if from notes, from Do to La —
and bravely down to the depths of Fa — their
clamour runs through every scale: — welcome,
sweet /heralds of spring ! "

" Gone is the pain from my heart, since at the
field's edge up there by the beech, the first
nightingale's trill touched my ear.

Four hours long I've heard two sing as for a
wager, instead of picking food from the well-
stored earth. All ye that in dreary winter
lie hidden from men in sullen woe, now hail
the verdant days that May will bring. Poor
little beasts, come forth! The table's spread

2 Mosmair is a person frequently mentioned in Oswald's
poems, and evidently a trusted friend. Probably he was an
old servant, or gamekeeper or tenant.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 139

with dainties in your home. Mountain, meadow,
vale are green and wide. Brave fare awaits
you."

The Morn of Bliss

" O, blissful, fair-deckt May ! thy cry of joy
brings much delight, and more than all when —
to the measure of the dance — a couple moves
with twined hands.

Green is the woodland, mountain, pasture,
vale. The nightingale and all bird-voices, in
countless choir, make music everywhere ! The
season of gladness drives away pain.

O ! wake to love — Be swift not slothful,

Quickly go to seek thy maid.

For long thou hast not seen her —

Now may her white arms clasp thee close."

A Wooing 1^ -j^

I

"A well-born, noble knight went wooing a
gentle maid, and sought to win her love
with honourable intent.

Oswald. O Lady mine, lend ear of grace awhile

140 Oswald von Wolkenstein

— and hear my humble prayer. Sorrow and
pain o'erwhelm me — no joy is mine — I know
not where to turn. Take pity on me, Lady !

Marg. Your words make mock of me,
Are you so ill, God help you !
He can well free you of pain.
From me small aid could come,
No redemption could I give you.
Elsewhere must you seek joy.
No helpmate I — as all may see —
A little maiden I — what could you make of me ?

3
Oswald. O Lady, treat me gently,
No mock nor jest speak L
Full many a year I've borne sore grief
In serving you with silent zeal.
The Lord of Heaven knows it well.
How vain my deepest plaint of yearning.
No diviner, fairer form hath pleased my heart

so well.
Therefore body and soul are sick and suiFer

cruel pangs.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 141

4

Marg. Say plainly ever what you want.
The maid that pleased you dwells not in this

house,
That know I well, unless my wits deceive.
For I have no fair form and count already four

and twenty years.
'Twere an ill bargain to desire ray love
Nor words nor wisdom have I
Fitting to give you joy.
Were I this day your sweetheart
You'd rue it sore the morrow.

5
Oswald. Why speak you thus with crafty pride.
Your beauty stabs me sore.
E'en your demeanour hath forced my heart.
So, hear me, high and lovely maid :
It ever pierced me to the core
When any false tongue hurt thee.
O blessed woman ! when thy bright eyes are

dim with tears
My whole frame's torn by pain that makes my

locks turn white.

142 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Marg. My warmest thanks for this —
All praise and gratitude be yours —
For feeling stung when a damsel's name's
reviled —
Small pain it giveth me ;
Comfort I find in solitude where no evil cry

can pierce.
Who slandereth a maiden without cause —

And boasteth of his deed,
Will surely reap just chastisement
And see his fair name soiled.

7

Oswald. Believe me, thou high-minded Maid,
By your tender, virgin honour
I would do naught to bring you ill
But, — can my daily torture aid you ?
Fain would I be your humble slave.
Sore anguish mine, unless you grant that boon.

Marg. Of no servant have I need
Too lofty your attendance for me.

Oswald. Yet mercy whispers in your words
I see it in your face."

Oswald von Wolkenstein 143

The Fair Swabian

I

" Not many a man finds happiness in his wife
of noble race. What land or town or castle
gave her birth 1 scarcely ask. From the depths
of my soul I cast forth gifts of all climes. For
I prize best a rosebud mouth down there in
Swabia: her voice so sweet, her face and
form so rare.

2

Such the proud Swabian maid,

In whom no fault I found ;

Her have I chosen for my bride

Above all women known.
Her lips, eyes, nose, her throat and chin —
are finely formed, just to my taste. Her skin
is white and flushed with pink; small hands and
arms are hers. Her bosom fair, oh endless joy,
so white, so round, so pure !

3
With slenderest waist, her lower parts are

finely built and curved. Her hips are strong,

her graceful limbs end in two tiny, narrow feet

144 Oswald von Wolkenstein

— her gait is chaste and stately — all faultless
everywhere.

She's prompt to hold a middle course with
judgment, to do and leave undone. She alone
hath vanquished me."

A Prayer and its Answer

" Oswald. Treasure of solace who may com-
fort me ?
Darling, how long must last this ban ?
Why so chill? It pains and grieves me sore.
Wherefore I crave help, grace and counsel, with

short delay.
Companion, friend, delight and blessing ! I burn

with longing night and day.
My heart with bitter sighs is bursting — so sore

its burden.
And yet it may not doubt continuance of thy

favour.
Thy blossom lips curve temptingly, thy small

teeth gleam,
Who enters in between them, drinks the sweet

fount of song.
My heart, how may my heart live without thee !

Oswald von Wolkenstein 145

Thee have I chosen, thou wondrous woman, in
honoured love and grace.

I've sought to make escape from eyes that pierce
my soul

With love-arrows, and fill me with sweet dread.

Lady, thy net hath caught me, encompassed me
with dearest toils —

None can free me save thou alone, thou blame-
less one.

Marg. With joy I'll save thee, man of my soul.
Thou alone hast o'ercome me !
And all the more that since long time, I'm thine

at all hours — as thou art mine.
Wholly and not in part my favour's thine.
All wretchedness be his who jeers at us, and

stabs for envy !
Thus much shall come to pass.
From knavery God shield thee.
Thine alone be all that's mine,^

1 "Nur Dein — AUein — Soli sein — Mein — Ein — Und
Alles gross und klein ! — In williger Treue schenk'ich dir —
Den Dank dahier — Und voUgezahlt ! " (Modernized
Version, p. 97.)

K

146 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Thine and mine, great and small !

In hearty troth I give thee thanks and full paid

debt.
The day-long burn I too with fondest yearning.
Hotly too, as thou, I crave more wealth of joy.
Have faith, submit when my love cries alarm —
And sternly warns us, thee and me —
Warns us to love with honour."

The Hour of Parting
I
" Oswald. True love's might holds my spirit
captive —
A maiden's form hath vanquished me !
Lady, have mercy on thy slave !
Give me thy troth, take me for thy loving spouse!
But none should see our passion's pearl.
Tell me, sweet joy, what saith thy heart ?
Gentle and mild declare thyself.
No hurt shall e'er touch thine honour !

Marg. Yes, dearest treasure ! Then so shalt
have me without fail,
But 'twere well in truth to keep our love con-
cealed.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 147

2

My giver of joy — sweet prize

Of my heart — the wife of thy bosom

I'll willingly be — my loving companion

Ever dear to me — ne'er sore.

Be always true — and doubt me not,

And keep thee far from knavish tongues.

Oswald. Lady, in sleepless nights I wandered

long.
Often, truly mine the fault, thou yearned for one !
That only gave some ground for meddlers' ^

lying tales.
They read things wrongly. They bring me grief
Now, grant me grace, I must begone,
The hour's already late.

3

My heaviness is lightened, new hope is mine —

Thy sweet embrace bringeth me joyful pain.

I'm sworn to thy service, and prompt to dare all.

No travail can daunt me, full of ardour for thee.

Heart's love mine, by night and by day.

1 Allusions to scandalmongers and gossips abound in all
early German love songs, and in this as in some other re-
spects, Oswald adhered to old models.

148 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Marg. But never mistrust me !
Tell me outright, without grudge :
Why dost so often leave me alone ?
Much peril lies in the quest of adventure.
(Hereupon the words died in her throat, yet

only for brief space.)
May all danger 'void thee :
Come back quickly safe and whole."

The Chosen M.

Red and white, a smiling face

Soars above a dusky robe ;

About her brow a veil is twined

And droops in simple folds.

Seen through it, softly barred.

Her rosebud mouth laughs forth

Studded with small white teeth.

The flashing beams of two dark little eyes

So stir my heart to joy — that deep in

My breast it quivers and hope's on the scent.

Her glance, her words dispel all pain

When I see her near and well

Oswald von Wolk en stein 149

And the gracious spirit of her youth
With song and play creates delight.
Rejoice in this, beloved Lady !

2
My thoughts oppress me
And yet may not be told to her.
A fear dwells in me, that well-nigh saps my

strength :
I dare not call her " Thou ! "
My rough ungainliness hinders me
From winning the fair maid's favour.
My hair is white with trouble —
My heart lies on the rack,
And burns with cruel pangs ;
Needs must be patient.

Her glance, her words, etc., etc.

3
Stolen glances, murmured speech,

Such plain German, yet — she will not under-
stand !
I'm wearied out with striving
My lessons to impart —
That also must I suffer !

150 Oswald von Wolkenstein

My honourably chosen M !

Thou nestlest in the core of my heart.

Cease, high Lady, thy stern rule ;

Let me proclaim my joy.

To plead my suit were all in vain

Did I not strongly press it.

Her glance, her words, etc., etc."

At the Court of Love

"The lovely Queen of Aragon, she was so
kind to me — I knelt before her gladly and did
homage with my beard. She strung a ring
upon it, with flashing snow-white hands — and.
softly murmured, ' Shalt unloose it never more.'
Then taking in her fingers a slender brazen
pin — as custom wills — she pierced my ears with
skilful touch and threaded them with rings.

These wore I long, in duty to my vow.
That same hour, I entered Sigismund's presence,
and he was fain to cross himself at sight of me.

' Ho, ho ! ' he cried, ' why thus adorned ?
Hast lost thy wits, strange playmr ce mine ? '

Then said in friendly tone, 'truly the rings
must pain thee?'

Oswald von Wolken stein 151

I was a show for man and maid,
A thing of laughter ;
Nine were here of royal state —
A noble ring — in Perpignan
Alertly watching ^ De Luna.
The tenth was Kaiser Sigismund
With the lords of Praides."

Oswald's Self-mockery in Remembrance
OF HIS Treacherous Capture by Sabina
Hausmann in 1 42 1

I

" If suffering hath made me old
And wise too late when mischief's done
I owe it to the prize my dear love gave me.
That I long space enough for love of her
A slender golden chainlet bore, hidden
Around my arm, she quite forgot.
The difference to mark, she gave
Me now an iron band three fingers
Broad in guerdon of her grace.
And — worse affront — I had to see

1 The Anti-Pope.

152 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Pressed to her heart the very churl
Who tortured me so sore.
This turns my food to gall.

Why blindly fell I in the trap ?

Drawn by the force of love.

Hence the cruel anguish —

That fatal journey cost me.

The pilgrimage seemed all too fair

Since my flame bid me to her home

And no saint-like word I sent her

Lest she might ride away.

I've pondered well the matter,

It befell for my salvation :

Were I Tight safe in Heaven

I would offer prayers for her.

Since she gave me of her bounty

Two iron rings of two pounds' weight

That chafed and cut both shin-bones.

3
Suffer this in cheerful mood
No love -offering doeth harm ;

Oswald von Wolkenstein 153

To best-loved child give stoutest rod,

She cares for thee so fondly

I know she's staunch and true.

Love fancies pretty ornaments

For this was I so finely stretched

My feet upon the bar.

Her heart craved marks four thousand

And Hauenstein to boot; that was a

joke !
A fine joke sure, as racked with pain
My tears dripped on the halter.
She granted me cat's guerdon,
I squeaked in mouse-like tune,
Five irons held me up — and so
I long bore traces of her favour."

Exhortation to the Three Estates

" Ye Popes and Kaisers, peasants too,
Why remiss in righteous deeds ?
Yet have ye God's command thereon
To do your duty in the state of life

154 Oswald von Wolkenstein

In which His will hath placed ye.
Be zealous in appointed tasks
He hath ranked ye in due order
Three noble titles counts the world,
Labourer, noble, spiritual Lord.

Thou, Holy Father, day and night
For all Christendom in common
Raise thy prayerful voice to Him,
Jointly with all thy priests,
To God who all ye creatures made,
Redeemed, and gave salvation
Through the bitter anguish
That in likeness of a man
He suffered on the Cross.

O Kaiser, guard with thy sword —
For that wert thou anointed —
All that's true to right and faith
With mighty strokes at every need.
The poor protect in fitting wise

Oswald von Wolkenstein 155

And take good heed that none
Beguile ye aught to do that
Bringeth hurt to Honour.
Rather pour out your blood.

4

He that's born to labour
Should work for worthy hire
Else were his labour wasted
Nought would he win here or above.
But he that serveth truly
As befits the peasant man
To him, if dying well-assoiled
Full joy's vouchsafed above
In all eternity.

O world, how haltingly dost move
On righteous work, in light of God !
All jointly, each true to the duties
Of his state : ye Emperors, Popes
And princes, knights uncounted
Burghers, rustics, hand in hand.

156 Oswald von Wolkenstein

Cardinals, bishops, prelates,

Lords spiritual and temporal, give special

ear
'Tis good to act justly in this world."

The Courtier of the Day

" Meanest of all crawling beasts on earth, I deem

the true courtier
Who body and soul belongs to his lord for

scanty hire.
A jackass, were he free, would never do so

much.
Now here, now there
Must stab, smite, steal and burn,
Nay, even play the spy.
Seize cattle, waggons, cocks and hens.
Spare no man ! Then for such
Noble spoil, thy lord will give
Thee gracious looks.
Stay now before his eyes, now
Close behind — attend him the day long —
Be he a prince, take utmost pains that he
May see thee, throw thee a gentle word.
Such boon thou deemest Heavenly treasure."

Oswald von Wolkenstein 157

The Wolkenstein Song of Victory on
ROUTING Duke Friedrich's besieging

FORCE beneath THE WALLS OF GrEIFEN-

stein in 1 41 7

" Tally Ho I cried Michael von Wolkenstein.
To the chase ! cried Oswald von Wolkenstein.
Up and at them ! cried Leonhard von Wolken-
stein,
We'll drive them to flight from Greifenstein.

II

Now smoke and din, now roaring flame
Poured down the gorge, stained with hot blood.
The foes dismayed shed arms and steel
Flying for life, while we made glad.

Ill

The siege works all, the huts and tents
Were burnt to ashes in the higher camp.
Who doeth ill, shall ill receive, 'tis said ;
And thus we pay thee back, Duke Friedrich.

58 Oswald von Wolkenstein

IV

ith cut and thrust and bolts we made quick

work of all,
own in the bog, beneath the Raubensteiner

steep,
eel-tipped shafts, over a good span long,
led from our bowstrings, pierced through

many a breast.

V

le rustics from St George and all the village

folk
ad sworn to serve us truly, but their word

was false,
ur brave comrades drove them down from

Raubenstein ^
nd cried: 'God save ye, neighbours,' your

faith is small.

VI

hurtling down and shooting, a rushing,
crackling sound
iddenly rose with a clangour as of tongues of
brazen bells. .^

^ The popular name for Castle Greifenstein.

Oswald von Wolkenstein 159

Now stir ye, noble knights, haste away or fall
With roofs ablaze on all sides scant shelter
will ye find !

VII

From Bozen and the Ritten, from Meran came

the bands
The Hasling and Jenesier men essayed to scale

our rock,
From Melten and the Samthal came almost

every soul ;
They thought to bind us captive, but theirs

was the defeat."

God Almighty

" Who soars above — and moves below.
Who strives before, behind, within
And lives eternally, had no beginning.
Who young yet old, in majesty possesses
Full Unity in Trinity incomprehensible yet plain.
Who truly died, yet was not dead,
^^^om the Chosen Virgin purely conceived
Painlessly begot and gave to us ;

i6o Oswald von Wolkenstein

Him, who wrought great marvels,
Who broke the walls of Hell, and stifled
The Devil therein — who lightened
The darkness and renewed the source of all
created things.

II
" Whose glances pierce to every secret place,
Who reads the thoughts in every heart —
However tightly closed.
All men to Him are subject.
Even as sun and moon, the firmament
Earth's plane and river's course
And ocean's tides.
He, the source of every Art
To every creature fitting form assigned,
For every season wondrous raiment.
Wherefore all beasts both tame and
Wild, give praise to Him
Who hateth not their image and
In His goodness gives them bounteous food.

Ill
"The stars above, the earth below
No resting have nor base.

Oswald von Wolkenstein i6i

And waters flow by unknown ways.

To sing the countless wonders

Of mountain top and vale, my art

Is thousandfold too scant.

I'm bound with shame perplexed.

The giver of my mind, soul.

Body, honour, worth and every righteous deed.

Be He my Counsellor

How best to prove my thanks.

So may I bar the path of foes

That none o'ercome me here nor there.

O, stainless Virgin Mother,

Defend me thou, that I ne'er be confounded." ^

This address to the Almighty styled by
Schrott " eine kleine Theodicee in nuce " is
the only specimen of Oswald's religious com-
positions that we have ventured to translate.
Others seem to us finer and of higher poetic

1 First lines of stanza ii. (Modernized Version): "Er
sieht hinein — In jeden Schrein, In jedes Herz, mag's noch
so fein — Verschlossen sein : — Er schauet die Gedanken. —
Ihm unterthan — 1st jedermann, — Wie Sonne, Mond, der
Sterne Bahn, — Der Erde Plan — Der Fliisse Fall, der
Wogen Schwanken."

L

1 62 Oswald von Wolkenstein

value, but could not be rendered adequately
save by a poet's pen. Indeed, none of the
translations attempted above can give more
than a shadowy idea of the force and swing
of our hero's verse.

Readers willing to grapple with the original
German text will be rewarded by many vivid
glimpses of early fifteenth-century life in Oswald's
descriptions of the doings at Constance, in the
long and graphic narrative of his second cap-
tivity, and in the realistic poems on domestic
life at Hauenstein.

In one of the latter we behold the moody
poet driven to exasperation by nursery pranks,
and see the fair Margaret rushing to the
rescue and admonishing him "not to vent his
fury on his babes." "I was called sharply
to account," he adds, "for what I had done
to them, and, as usual, there was much
scolding."

In spite of Oswald's close observation of
certain aspects of nature, he shared the general
blindness of his age to the beauty and sug-
gestiveness of mountain forms. Reared amid the

Oswald von Wolkenstein 163

fantastic limestone giants (now named Dolomites)
of the Grodnerthal, and dwelling at Hauenstein
shadowed by the huge towers of the Schlern,
he has no word of praise for his native peaks,
save in one line of his " Address to God " and,
stranger still, is completely silent regarding
their legendary fame.

Yet the tale of King Laurin's rose-garden,
the feats of Dietrich of Bern, and the host
of supernatural beings supposed to people the
recesses of the Schlern, and the tangled forest
beneath, seem to have made no impression on
his mind and are unmentioned in his works.
Nevertheless, we know that, previous to becom-
ing a hard-headed realist, he cherished many
mystic, mediaeval beliefs, had a genuine cult for
King Arthur, dreamed of the Holy Grail, and
made more than one — quite ineffectual — attempt
to tame his hot blood and lead the life of a
pure and perfect knight.

But his failure in this is our gain, inasmuch
as the real man, the mediasval chieftain, breath-
ing the first breath of the Renaissance, has a
higher interest for us than the visionary ideal

164 Oswald von Wolkenstein

he once sought to grasp. With all his inherited
prejudices, all his blunders, Oswald von Wolken-
stein is a striking figure in the history of old
Tirol, and has a special niche of his own in the
temple of German song.

TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH