miserable noble was found hanging by that rope.

Mainz

Mainz, the old Maguntiacum, was the principal fortress on the Upper
Rhine in Roman times. It was here that Crescentius, one of the first
preachers of the Christian faith on the Rhine, regarded by local
tradition as the pupil of St. Peter and first Archbishop of Mainz,
suffered martyrdom in the reign of Trajan in A.D. 103. He was a
centurion in the Twenty-second Legion, which had been engaged under
Titus in the destruction of Jerusalem, and it is supposed that
he preached the Gospel in Mainz for thirty-three years before his
execution. Here also it was that the famous vision of Constantine, the
cross in the sky, was vouchsafed to the Christian conqueror as he went
forth to meet the forces of Maxentius. The field of the Holy Cross
in the vicinity of Mainz is still pointed out as the spot where this
miracle took place. The city flourished under the Carlovingians, and was
in a high state of prosperity at the time of Bishop Hatto, whose name,
as we have seen, has been held up to obloquy in many legends.

During the fourteenth century Mainz shared the power and glory of the
other cities of the Rhenish Confederation, then in the full flush of its
heyday. Its cathedral witnesses to its aforetime civic splendour. This
magnificent building took upward of four hundred years to complete, and
its wondrous brazen doors and sumptuous chapels are among the finest
ecclesiastical treasures of Germany.

The Fiddler

In the cathedral of Mainz was an image of the Virgin, on whose feet
were golden slippers, the gift of some wealthy votary. Of this image the
following legend is told:

A poor ragged fiddler had spent the whole of one bitter winter morning
playing through the dreary streets without any taking pity upon his
plight. As he came to the cathedral he felt an overmastering desire
to enter and pour out his distress in the presence of his Maker. So he
crept in, a tattered and forlorn figure. He prayed aloud, chanting his
woes in the same tones which he used in the street to touch the hearts
of the passers-by.

As he prayed a sense of solitude came upon him, and he realized that the
shadowy aisles were empty. A sudden whim seized him. He would play
to the golden-shod Virgin and sing her one of his sweetest songs. And
drawing nearer he lifted his old fiddle to his shoulder, and into
his playing he put all his longing and pain; his quavering voice grew
stronger beneath the st