At length Conrad von Hochstetten ascended the archiepiscopal throne of Cologne, in the year of God 1237; and, in a short time, the ancient feud between the city and the see was revived with additional strength and fierceness. Proud, impetuous, and unrelenting-but withal cunning and cautious in furthering his own plans-this prelate was not the man to relinquish any claim made by his predecessors, or scruple at the means of enforcing it. He began, however, with great craft. In the year 1248, he commenced the erection of that glorious structure, the Cathedral of Cologne, the plan of which had been designed, and the foundation laid, in the time of Engelbert the First, his predecessor. He well knew that the burghers were proud of this splendid structure, and he was determined to take advantage of the circumstance to advance his own pretensions, and effect the overthrow of their ancient freedom. At that period the privilege of coining was vested not alone in cities but also in noble and ancient families, who enjoyed it as a hereditary right; and the most paltry, as well as the most extensive states, had a multiplicity of monies. The first bold step of this prelate was a decree for the abolition of this right, and an order that no coin should pass current except that which issued from his mint. The burghers of Cologne resisted this innovation; and, as the officers of the archbishop enforced it without relaxation, a rebellion was the consequence.* That which he could not effect by power he succeeded, however, in effecting by stratagem: he found the results of a cunning insidious policy to be more abundantly advantageous to him than all the efforts of arms and physical strength. Quarrels were excited, by his agency, between the patricians and plebeians of the city; discord was plentifully sown among all social conditions; suspicion against each other was actively engendered in their hearts; they were speedily disunited; hatred of their respective ranks was fomented; their power was dissolved; and they became the prey of their designing enemy. Under pretence of conciliating both parties, he only made the breach between them wider; and, from the position of a voluntary mediator, he stepped, at once, into that of an absolute master. It was not until his arbitrary

* Vide Westhofen and Berchem; further on.

conduct and oppressive exactions were felt by all that the fatal error into which they had fallen was discovered. But it was then too late for he had crowded the city with his troops; occupied the strong positions in and about it with his most faithful retainers; and filled with his own creatures and favourites all situations of trust, and all offices of eminence and honour in the magistracy and municipality. He retained the upper hand of the citizens until his death.

Engelbert, the second of that name, one of the noble and powerful family of Falkenberg, succeeded, and followed in every respect the footsteps of his predecessor. He continued to excite the plebeians against the patricians, and the patricians against the plebeians; and took advantage of their dissensions to increase and extend his own power and influence. To such a pitch did he carry this perfidious policy, that he soon became the most despotic prince that ever ruled the city. At length, he claimed the municipal treasure as his own, and sent his creature, Herman von Vittinghof, to enforce the demand. This roused the burghers once more: he had touched the sore part; and they were anxious now to do that for the preservation of their purses which they had neglected for the preservation of their freedom.

At this period a brave, honest, God-fearing old man, named Hermann Grein, was burgomaster of Cologne. He had long witnessed the degeneracy and degradation of his fellow-citizens, and the encroachments of the archbishop on their freedom and fortunes; but, being powerless in his own person to remedy the evil, he had interposed patience, until an opportunity should arise of throwing off the galling yoke. The patricians and plebeians were, by this act, once more united against the common foe; and private feuds were forgotten in the universal feeling of hatred caused by the manifold and vexatious oppressions of the archbishop. Plans were proposed and perfected for a general rising of the populace, and the expulsion of the ecclesiastical troops from the city and a general rising took place accordingly, which ended in the triumph of the burghers and the overthrow of the archbishop's power.

Engelbert was outrageous at the news of this revolt; and swore roundly that he would subdue, or extirpate, the rebels.

To this end he summoned, without delay, all his feudatories; and, in a short time, found himself at the head of a numerous army. The Count of Gueldres, and his brother, the Bishop of Liege, both neighbours of Engelbert, also joined him with a considerable body of troops; but, as they had done so only in the hope of profit, without any notion of revenge or glory, they soon became spectators rather than actors in the drama, in consequence of the manifest determination of the burghers of Cologne to sacrifice their lives before they again gave up their liberties. It was happy for both parties that they did so. From being spectators, these princes soon assumed the character of mediators; and, by the intervention of their good offices, restored peace to the contending powers. The privileges of the city of Cologne were solemnly ratified by the archbishop; and the burghers renewed their oath of allegiance to that prelate, as their local suzerain.

Engelbert was, however, a man whom no vows could bind, and with whom no covenant was sacred, so long as it stood in the way of his ambitious schemes. What he could not effect by force he resolved to accomplish by fraud; and he again set on foot a plot by which to obtain the supremacy of the city. Under pretence of holding a high ecclesiastical court in Cologne, he repaired thither from Bonn, accompanied by a great number of followers wearing concealed arms and armour. His brother, the Count of Falkenberg, at the head of a large force of devoted retainers, smuggled into the city in small bodies of five or ten at the time, during the preceding day, only waited the signal of onset. His plan was to seize on the principal citizens, particularly the leaders of the opposition, while they attended the count. But it was discovered just in time to be effectually defeated. The citizens assembled in large numbers armed to the teeth; precautions were taken to prevent a junction of the Count of Falkenberg's detached followers; and the archbishop and his brother were surprised themselves in the toils they had set for others. Both were made prisoners by the triumphant burghers, and their followers once more expelled the city. Again were the good offices of the Count of Gueldres and the Bishop of Liege called into requisition as mediators; and again were they successful. Through their means Engelbert again ob

tained his liberty; but not before he had sworn, in the most solemn manner, to trouble the city no more. The ignominy of his defeat, however, preyed on him night and day; and, as oaths were as little regarded by him, when they stood in his way, as ordinary promises, he was perpetually plotting against the peace and the liberty of the citizens. He was well aware, however, that so long as he had to deal with the brave, wise, old burgomaster, Hermann Grein, he should derive no advantage from his machinations. Him, therefore, he resolved to get rid of as soon as possible.

Hermann Grein was one of those extraordinary men, who seem as if expressly made for occasions of popular emergency. Brave, eloquent, honest, and liberal, he was the idol of the commonalty; while his noble birth and princely qualities gave him high credit with the patrician portion of the community; and his great wealth and extensive business as a merchant and trader, obtained him the confidence of the reputable burghers. He was, besides, prudent, discreet, and far-seeing; and as much fitted as man could be by the suavity of his manners, the wisdom of his words, the blamelessness of his life, and the whole tenour of his thoughts and actions, to reconcile contending parties, and unite them against the common enemy of their freedom. On him was the ire of the archbishop now concentrated. The wary prelate knew right well, that while this old man lived his evil propensities would never be gratified; in other words, that all attempts to regain his lost sway over the fair city of Cologne would be fruitless.

In the monastery contiguous to the cathedral were found fitting agents for the archbishop's purpose. Two canons of the foundation, who recommended themselves to him by their private hatred of Hermann Grein, were admitted to a knowledge of his diabolical design, and undertook to carry it into execution. In this monastery was a sort of rude museum, among the chief curiosities of which was an enormous lion, noted for his fierce, untameable nature. This fearful animal was intended by them for a principal actor in the terrible tragedy which they contemplated.

It was intimated to Hermann Grein, under the seal of secrecy, that the archbishop wished to treat with him privately

respecting his claims on the sovereignty of the city; and that he felt disposed to grant all that the citizens desired of his own free will, with the exception of a few trifling conditions. The emissaries of the archbishop on this occasion were the two canons. They further informed the burgomaster-finding him an attentive auditor—that their master would meet him in private in the monastery at any time he should think proper to name. After some consideration on the part of Hermann Grein, and much manœuvring on the part of the archbishop's emissaries, it was at last settled that the meeting should take place at dinner. They departed; and the burgomaster prepared to attend accordingly. He took, however, the precaution of confiding the whole affair to the chief members of the council; and, also, of arming himself to the teeth in the event of the worst. It was a noble sight to see that gallant old man, clothed in costly under-garments, a gold-velvet barret cap, from which flaunted a magnificent ostrich plume, on his gray head, a rich Spanish mantle flung over his shoulders, and his keen kurt Roman glaive by his side, go forth alone to face his foes, greeted by the smile of his friends, the reverence of his fellows, the gratulations of young and old of both sexes, and followed by the prayers and blessings of all. Thus accompanied, and thus only, he soon reached the precincts of the cathedral.

The ponderous portal of the monastery sprung wide to his first touch, and a handsome page, in the archbishop's livery, stood before him. He entered, the page preceding him; and, ascending the steps at the further end of the ample hall, soon stood in a suite of apartments on a level with the garden. Here he was received by the two canons, who had invited him thither, and managed the negotiation for the meeting.

"Welcome, most noble burgomaster," spake they; "thrice welcome to these walls. All feud between the archbishop and the burghers is now at an end; and once more the city shall enjoy peace. Welcome, therefore, brave and noble burgo

master."

"I thank ye, gentles," replied the burgomaster; "freely I thank you for the cordiality of your welcome: and can assure you, that on my part nothing shall be left undone to promote that peace which none desires more than I do always as