The next day Wallenstein again entered Malcolm's workroom and said
abruptly to him: “What deeds of bravery have you performed?”
Malcolm looked astonished.
“In an idle moment,” the duke said, “having an interest in nativities
and seeing that you were born between two years, I asked my astrologer
to work out the calculations. He tells me that it was fated that you
should perform deeds of notable bravery while still young. It seemed
the horoscope of a soldier rather than of a craftsman, and so I told the
sage; but he will have it that he has made no mistake.”
Malcolm hesitated for a moment; the blind faith which the otherwise
intelligent and capable general placed in the science of astrology was
well known to the world. Should he deny that he had accomplished any
feats, the duke, believing implicitly the statement which his astrologer
had made him, would suspect that he was not what he seemed; he therefore
replied modestly, “I have done no deeds worthy relating to your
excellency, but I once swam across a swollen river to direct some
travellers who would otherwise have perished, and my neighbours were
good enough to say that none in those parts save myself would have
attempted such a feat.”
“Ah!” the duke exclaimed in a tone of satisfaction, “as usual the stars
have spoken correctly. Doubtless as great courage is required to swim a
river in flood as to charge into the ranks of the enemy.”
So saying Wallenstein left the room, filled with a desire to attach to
himself the young man whom his adviser had assured him was in some
way connected with his destiny. Wallenstein a day or two later offered
Malcolm to take him into his permanent service, saying that he was
frequently plagued by the stoppages of his clocks, and desired to have
a craftsman capable of attending to them on his establishment. He even
told the young man that he might expect promotion altogether beyond his
present station.
Malcolm could not refuse so flattering an offer, and was at once
installed as a member of Wallenstein's household, declining however the
use of the apartment which the steward offered him, saying that he had a
sick brother lodging with him in the town. Mingling with the soldiers in
the evenings Malcolm learned that there were rumours that negotiations
for peace were going on with Saxony and Sweden. This was indeed the
case, but Wallenstein was negotiating on his own behalf, and not on that
of the emperor. So far but little had come of these negotiations, for
Oxenstiern had the strongest doubts of Wallenstein's sincerity, and
believed that he was only trying to gain time and delay operations
by pretended proposals for peace. He could not believe that the great
Imperialist general, the right hand of the emperor, had any real
intention of turning against his master. Towards the end of January
there was some excitement in Pilsen owing to the arrival there of all
the generals of the Imperialist army save only Gallas, Coloredo, and
Altringer.
Malcolm was sure that such a gathering could only have been summoned
by Wallenstein upon some matter of the most vital importance, and he
determined at all hazards to learn what was taking place, in order that
he might enlighten Oxenstiern as to the real sentiments of the duke.
Learning that the principal chamber in the castle had been cleared, and
that a meeting of the officers would take place there in the evening, he
told Thekla when he went home to his meal at midday that she must not be
surprised if he did not return until a late hour. He continued his work
until nearly six o'clock, the time at which the meeting was to begin,
and then extinguishing his light, he made his way through the passages
of the castle until he reached the council chamber, meeting with no
interruption from the domestics, who were by this time familiar with his
person, and who regarded him as one rising in favour with their master.
He waited in the vicinity of the chamber until he saw an opportunity for
entering unobserved, then he stole into the room and secreted himself
behind the arras beneath a table standing against the wall, and where,
being in shadow, the bulge in the hanging would not attract attention.
In a few minutes he heard heavy steps with the clanking of swords and
jingling of spurs, and knew that the council was beginning to assemble.
The hum of conversation rose louder and louder for a quarter of an
hour; then he heard the door of the apartment closed, and knew that the
council was about to commence. The buzz of conversation ceased, and then
a voice, which was that of Field Marshal Illo, one of the three men in
Wallenstein's confidence, rose in the silence. He began by laying before
the army the orders which the emperor had sent for its dispersal to
various parts of the country, and by the turn he gave to these he found
it easy to excite the indignation of the assembly.
He then expatiated with much eloquence upon the merits of the army
and its generals, and upon the ingratitude with which the emperor had
treated them after their noble efforts in his behalf. The court, he
said, was governed by Spanish influence. The ministry were in the pay of
Spain. Wallenstein alone had hitherto opposed this tyranny, and had thus
drawn upon himself the deadly enmity of the Spaniards. To remove him
from the command, or to make away with him entirely, had, he asserted,
been long the end of their desires, and until they could succeed they
endeavoured to abridge his power in the field. The supreme command was
to be placed in the hands of the King of Hungary solely to promote
the Spanish power in Germany, as this prince was merely the passive
instrument of Spain.
It was only with the view of weakening the army that six thousand troops
were ordered to be detached from it, and solely to harass it by a winter
campaign that they were now called upon at this inhospitable season
to undertake the recovery of Ratisbon. The Jesuits and the ministry
enriched themselves with the treasure wrung from the provinces, and
squandered the money intended for the pay of the troops.
The general, then, abandoned by the court, was forced to acknowledge
his inability to keep his engagements to the army. For all the services
which for two-and-twenty years he had rendered to the house of Austria,
in return for all the difficulties with which he had struggled, for all
the treasures of his own which he had expended in the Imperial service,
a second disgraceful dismissal awaited him. But he was resolved the
matter should not come to this; he was determined voluntarily to resign
the command before it should be wrested from his hands, “and this,”
continued the speaker, “is what he has summoned you here to make known
to you, and what he has commissioned me to inform you.”
It was now for them to say whether they would permit him to leave them;
it was for each man present to consider who was to repay him the sums
he had expended in the emperor's service; how he was ever to reap the
rewards for his bravery and devotion, when the chief who alone was
cognizant of their efforts, who was their sole advocate and champion,
was removed from them.
When the speaker concluded a loud cry broke from all the officers that
they would not permit Wallenstein to be taken from them. Then a babel
of talk arose, and after much discussion four of the officers were
appointed as a deputation to wait upon the duke to assure him of the
devotion of the army, and to beg him not to withdraw himself from
them. The four officers intrusted with the commission left the room and
repaired to the private chamber of the general. They returned in a short
time, saying that the duke refused to yield.
Another deputation was sent to pray him in even stronger terms to remain
with them. These returned with the news that Wallenstein had reluctantly
yielded to their request; but upon the condition that each of them
should give a written promise to truly and firmly adhere to him, neither
to separate or to allow himself to be separated from him, and to
shed his last drop of blood in his defence. Whoever should break this
covenant, so long as Wallenstein should employ the army in the emperor's
service, was to be regarded as a perfidious traitor and to be treated by
the rest as a common enemy.
As these last words appeared to indicate clearly that Wallenstein had no
thought of assuming a position hostile to the emperor, or of defying his
authority, save in the point of refusing to be separated from his army,
all present agreed with acclamations to sign the documents required.
“Then, gentlemen,” Marshal Illo said, “I will have the document for your
signatures at once drawn up. A banquet has been prepared in the next
room, of which I invite you now all to partake, and at its conclusion
the document shall be ready.”
Malcolm from his hiding place heard the general movement as the officers
left the apartment, and looking cautiously out from beneath the arras,
saw that the chamber was entirely empty. He determined, however, to
remain and to hear the conclusion of the conference. He accordingly
remained quiet for upwards of an hour. During this time the attendants
had entered and extinguished the lights, as the guests would not return
to the council chamber.
He now left his hiding place and made his way to the door which
separated him from the banqueting hall. Listening intently at the
keyhole, he heard the clinking of glasses and the sound of voices loudly
raised, and he guessed that the revelry was at its height. More and more
noisy did it become, for Marshal Illo was plying his guests with wine in
order that they might sign without examination the document which he had
prepared for their signatures. Feeling confident that none would hear
him in the state at which they had now arrived, Malcolm cautiously
opened the door an inch or two, and was able to hear and see all that
passed.
It was another hour before Marshal Illo produced the document and passed
it round for signature. Many of those to whom it was handed signed it
at once without reading the engagement; but one more sober than the
rest insisted on reading it through, and at once rising to his feet,
announced to the others that the important words “as long as Wallenstein
shall employ the army for the emperor's service,” which had been
inserted in the first draft agreed to by Wallenstein and the deputation,
had been omitted.
A scene of noisy confusion ensued. Several of the officers declared that
they would not sign the document as it stood. General Piccolomini, who
had only attended the meeting in order that he might inform the emperor,
to whom he was devoted, of what took place there, had drunk so much wine
that he forgot the part he was playing, and rose to his feet and with
drunken gravity proposed the health of the emperor.
Louder and louder grew the din of tongues until Count Terzky, who was
alone with Illo and Colonel Kinsky in Wallenstein's confidence, arose,
and in a thundering voice declared that all were perjured villains
who should recede from their engagement, and would, according to their
agreements be treated as enemies by the rest. His menaces and the
evident danger which any who might now draw back would run, overcame the
scruples of the recalcitrants, and all signed the paper. This done
the meeting broke up, and Malcolm, stealing away from his post of
observation, made his way back to his lodgings.
He slept little that night. What he had seen convinced him that
Wallenstein was really in earnest in the propositions which he had made
to Oxenstiern and the Elector of Saxony, and that he meditated an
open rebellion against the emperor. It was of extreme importance that
Oxenstiern should be made acquainted with these facts; but it would
be next to impossible to escape from Pilsen, burdened as he was with
Thekla, and to cross the country which intervened between the two armies
and which was constantly traversed by cavalry parties and scouts of both
sides.
After much deliberation, therefore, he determined upon the bold course
of frankly informing Wallenstein who he was and what he had heard, and
to beg of him to furnish him with an escort to pass through the lines in
order that he might make his way with all speed to Oxenstiern in order
to assure him of the good faith of the duke and of the importance of
his frankly and speedily accepting his proposals. It was possible, of
course, that he might fall a victim to Wallenstein's first anger when he
found out that he had been duped, and the plot in which he was engaged
discovered; but he resolved to run the risk, believing that the duke
would see the advantage to be gained by complying with his proposal.
It was necessary, however, to prepare Thekla for the worst.
“Thekla,” he said in the morning, “an end has come to our stay here.
Circumstances have occurred which will either enable us to continue our
journey at once and in safety or which may place me in a prison.”
Thekla gave a cry of surprise and terror. “I do not think, my dear
girl,” Malcolm went on, “that there is much fear of the second
alternative, but we must be prepared for it. You must obey my
instructions implicitly. Should I not return by nightfall you will know
that for a time at least I have been detained. You will tell the woman
of the house, who is aware that I am employed by Wallenstein, that I
have been sent by him to examine and set in order the clocks in his
palace in Vienna in readiness for his return there, but that as you were
too unwell to travel I have bade you remain here until I return to fetch
you.
“You have an ample supply of money even without the purse of gold which
the duke presented to me yesterday. You must remain here quietly until
the spring, when the tide of war is sure to roll away to some other
quarter, and I trust that, long ere that, even should I be detained,
I shall be free to come to you again; but if not, do you then despatch
this letter which I have written for you to Jans Boerhoff. In this
I tell him where you are, in order that, if your mother comes to him
asking for you, or your parents are able to write to him to inquire for
you, he may inform them of your hiding place. I have also written you a
letter to the commander of any Swedish force which may enter this town,
telling him who you are, and praying him to forward you under an escort
to Nuremberg.”
“But what shall I do without you?” Thekla sobbed.
“I trust, my dear, that you will not have to do without me, and
feel convinced that tomorrow we shall be upon our way to the Swedish
outposts. I only give you instructions in case of the worst. It troubles
me terribly that I am forced to do anything which may possibly deprive
you of my protection, but my duty to the country I serve compels me to
take this step, which is one of supreme importance to our cause.”
It was long before Thekla was pacified, and Malcolm himself was
deeply troubled at the thought that the girl might be left alone and
unprotected in a strange place. Still there appeared every probability
that she would be able to remain there in safety until an opportunity
should occur for her to make her way to Nuremberg. It was with a heavy
heart, caused far more by the thought of Thekla's position than of
danger to himself, that he took his way to the castle; but he felt that
his duty was imperative, and was at heart convinced that Wallenstein
would eagerly embrace his offer.
It was not until midday that he was able to see the duke. Wallenstein
had been greatly angered as well as alarmed at the resistance which his
scheme had met with on the previous evening. He had believed that his
favours and liberality had so thoroughly attached his generals to
his person that they would have followed him willingly and without
hesitation, even in a war against the emperor, and the discovery that,
although willing to support him against deprivation from his command,
they shrunk alarmed at the idea of disloyalty to the emperor, showed
that his position was dangerous in the extreme.
He found that the signatures to the document had for the most part been
scrawled so illegibly that the writers would be able to repudiate them
if necessary, and that deceit was evidently intended. In the morning he
called together the whole of the generals, and personally received them.
After pouring out the bitterest reproaches and abuse against the court,
he reminded them of their opposition to the proposition set before them
on the previous evening, and declared that this circumstance had induced
him to retract his own promise, and that he should at once resign his
command.
The generals, in confusion and dismay, withdrew to the antechamber, and
after a short consultation returned to offer their apologies for their
conduct on the previous evening and to offer to sign anew the engagement
which bound them to him. This was done, and it now remained only for
Wallenstein to obtain the adhesion of Gallas, Altringer, and Coloredo,
which, as they held important separate commands, was necessary for the
success of his plan. Messengers were accordingly sent out at once to
request them to come instantly to Pilsen.
After this business was despatched and Wallenstein was disengaged he was
informed that Malcolm desired earnestly to speak to him on particular
business. Greatly surprised at the request, he ordered that he should be
shown in to him.
“Your excellency,” Malcolm began when they were alone, “what I am about
to say may anger you, but as I trust that much advantage may arise from
my communication, I implore you to restrain your anger until you hear me
to the end, after which it will be for you to do with me as you will.”
Still more surprised at this commencement, Wallenstein signed to him to
continue.
“I am, sir,” Malcolm went on, “no clockmaker, although, indeed, having
worked for some time in the shop of Master Jans Boerhoff at the time of
the siege of Nuremberg, I am able to set clocks and watches in repair,
as I have done to those which have been placed in my hands here. In
reality, sir, I am a Scottish officer, a captain in the service of
Sweden.”
Wallenstein gave a short exclamation of angry surprise. “You must not
think, sir, that I have come hither in disguise to be a spy upon the
movements of your army. I came here unwillingly, being captured by your
troops, and forced to accompany them.
“I left the Swedish camp on a private mission, having received there a
missive from the Countess of Mansfeld, who, with her husband, was a kind
friend of mine, telling me that they were prisoners of the emperor at
Prague, and begging me to come to their assistance. Bethinking me of
the occupation which had amused my leisure hours during the weary months
when we were shut up by you in Nuremberg, I obtained leave of absence,
attired myself as a craftsman, and made my way to Prague. There I found
the count confined to his couch by a wound and unable to move. The
countess had no thought of quitting him. Her anxiety was wholly for her
daughter, a girl of fifteen, whom the emperor purposed to shut up in a
convent and force to change her religion, and then to bestow her hand
upon one of his favourites, with her father's confiscated estates as her
dowry.
“I succeeded in effecting her escape, disguised as a boy; I myself
travelling in the disguise of a peasant with a wagon. We were making our
way towards the Swedish lines when we came across your army, which had,
unknown to me, suddenly moved hither. I and my cart were requisitioned
for the service of the army. On the night of my arrival here I resumed
my disguise as a craftsman, left my wagon, and with my young companion
took up my lodging here, intending to remain quietly working at the
craft I assumed until an opportunity offered for continuing our journey.
Accident obtained me employment here, and as rumour said that overtures
for peace were passing between yourself and the Swedish chancellor,
I may frankly say that I determined to use the position in which I
accidentally found myself for the benefit of the country I served, by
ascertaining, if I could, how far your excellency was in earnest as
to the offers you were making. In pursuance of that plan I yesterday
concealed myself and overheard all that passed in the council chamber
with the officers, and at the banquet subsequently.”
Wallenstein leapt to his feet with an angry exclamation.
“Your excellency will please to remember,” Malcolm went on quietly,
“that I could have kept all this to myself and used it to the benefit or
detriment of your excellency, but it seemed to me that I should benefit
at once your designs and the cause I serve by frankly acquainting you
with what I have discovered. It would be a work of time for me to make
my way with my companion through the lines of your army and to gain
those of the Swedes. I might be slain in so doing and the important
information I have acquired lost.
“It is of all things important to you that the Swedish chancellor, whose
nature is cautious and suspicious, should be thoroughly convinced that
it is your intention to make common cause with him and to join him heart
and soul in forcing the emperor to accept the conditions which you and
he united may impose upon him. This the information I have acquired will
assuredly suffice to do, and he will, without doubt, at once set his
army in motion to act in concert with yours.”
Wallenstein paced the room for a minute or two in silence.
“The stars truly said that you are a brave man and that your destiny is
connected with mine,” he said at length, “for assuredly none but a brave
man would venture to tell me that he had spied into my councils. I see,
however, that what you say is reasonable and cogent, and that the news
you have to tell may well induce Oxenstiern to lay aside the doubts
which have so long kept us asunder and at once to embrace my offer.
What, then, do you propose?”
“I would ask, sir,” Malcolm replied, “that you would at once order a
squadron of horse to escort me and my companion through the debatable
land between your army and that of the Swedes, with orders for us
to pass freely on as soon as we are beyond your outposts and in the
neighbourhood of those of the Swedes.”
“It shall be done,” Wallenstein said. “In half an hour a squadron of
horse shall be drawn up in the courtyard here, and a horse and pillion
in readiness for yourself and the maiden. In the meantime I will myself
prepare a letter for you to present to the Swedish chancellor with fresh
proposals for common action.”