Malcolm hurried back to his lodging, where he was received with a cry
of delight from Thekla, who had passed the time since he had left her on
her knees praying for his safety. He told her at once that she was about
to be restored to safety among friends, that her troubles were at an
end, and she was again to resume her proper garments which she had
brought with her in the basket containing his tools at the time of her
flight.
A few minutes sufficed to make the change, and then she accompanied
Malcolm to the castle. Wallenstein's orders had been rapidly carried
out; a squadron of cavalry were formed up in the courtyard, and in front
of them an attendant held a horse with a pillion behind the saddle.
Malcolm lifted Thekla on to the pillion and sprang into the saddle in
front of her. One of Wallenstein's household handed a letter to him and
then gave him into the charge of the officer commanding the squadron,
who had already received his orders. The officer at once gave the word
and rode from the castle followed by the cavalry.
As soon as they were out of the town the pace was quickened, and the
cavalcade proceeded at a trot which was kept up with few intermissions
until nightfall, by which time twenty miles had been covered. They
halted for the night in a small town where the soldiers were billeted
on the inhabitants, comfortable apartments being assigned to Malcolm and
his charge.
Soon after daybreak the journey was continued. A sharp watch was now
kept up, as at any moment parties of the Swedish cavalry making a raid
far in advance of their lines might be met with. No such adventure
happened, and late in the afternoon the troop halted on the crest of a
low hill.
“Here,” the officer said, “we part. That town which you see across
the river is held by the Swedes, and you will certainly meet with no
molestation from any of our side as you ride down to it.”
Malcolm thanked the officer for the courtesy he had shown him on the
journey, and then rode forward towards the town. It was getting dusk as
he neared the bridge, but as he came close Malcolm's heart gave a bound
as he recognized the green scarves and plumes worn by the sentries at
the bridge. These seeing only a single horseman with a female behind
him did not attempt to question him as he passed; but he reined in his
horse.
“Whose regiment do you belong to?” he asked.
The men looked up in surprise at being addressed in their own language
by one whose attire was that of a simple craftsman, but whom they now
saw rode a horse of great strength and beauty.
“We belong to Hamilton's regiment,” they replied.
“And where shall I find that of Munro?”
“It is lying in quarters fifteen miles away,” one of the soldiers
answered.
“Then we cannot get on there tonight,” Malcolm said. “Where are your
officers quartered?”
A soldier standing near at once volunteered to act as guide, and in a
few minutes Malcolm arrived at the house occupied by them. He was
of course personally known to all the officers, and as soon as their
surprise at his disguise and at seeing him accompanied by a young lady
had subsided, they received him most heartily.
Thekla was at once taken to the house of the burgomaster, which was
close at hand, and handed over to the wife of that functionary for the
night, and Malcolm spent a merry evening with the Scottish officers,
to whom he related the adventures which had so satisfactorily
terminated--making, however, no allusion to the political secrets which
he had discovered or the mission with which he was charged. He was soon
furnished from the wardrobes of the officers with a suit of clothes,
and although his craftsman attire had served him well he was glad to don
again the uniform of the Scottish brigade.
“You have cut your narrative strangely short at the end, Graheme,”
Colonel Hamilton said when Malcolm brought his story to a conclusion.
“How did you get away from Pilsen at last, and from whom did you steal
that splendid charger on whom you rode up to the door?”
“That is not my own secret, colonel, and I can only tell you at present
that Wallenstein himself gave it to me.”
A roar of incredulous laughter broke from the officers round the table.
“A likely story indeed, Graheme; the duke was so fascinated with your
talents as a watchmaker that he bestowed a charger fit for his own
riding upon you to carry you across into our lines.”
“It does not sound likely, I grant you,” Malcolm said, “but it is true,
as you will acknowledge when the time comes that there will be no longer
any occasion for me to keep the circumstances secret. I only repeat,
Wallenstein gave me the honour of an escort which conducted me to the
crest of the hill two miles away, where, if your sentries and outposts
had been keeping their eyes open, they might have seen them.”
It was late before the party broke up, but soon after daylight Malcolm
was again in the saddle, and with Thekla as before on the pillion he
continued his journey, and in three hours reached the town where his
regiment was quartered.
Alighting at the door of the colonel's quarters, he led Thekla to his
apartments. The colonel received him with the greatest cordiality and
welcomed Thekla with a kindness which soon put her at her ease, for
now that the danger was past she was beginning to feel keenly the
strangeness of her position.
She remembered Colonel Munro perfectly, as he and the other officers of
the regiment had been frequently at her father's during the stay of the
regiment at Maintz. The colonel placed her at once in charge of the
wife of one of the principal citizens, who upon hearing that she was the
daughter of the Count of Mansfeld, well known for his attachment to the
Protestant cause, willingly received her, and offered to retain her
as her guest until an opportunity should occur for sending her on to
Nuremberg, should Malcolm not be able at once to continue his journey to
that city.
“That,” Colonel Munro said as soon as Malcolm informed him of the
extremely important information he had gained, “is out of the question.
Your news is of supreme importance, it alters the whole course of
events, and offers hopes of an early termination of the struggle. There
is no doubt that Wallenstein is in earnest now, for he has committed
himself beyond reparation. The only question is whether he can carry the
army with him. However, it is clear that you must ride with all haste
to Oxenstiern with your tidings; not a moment must be lost. He is in the
Palatinate, and it will take you four days of hard riding at the least
to reach him.
“In the meantime, your little maid, who by the way is already nearly a
woman, had best remain here--I will see that she is comfortable and well
cared for, and after all she is as well here as at Nuremberg, as there
is no fear now of an advance of the Imperialists. In case of anything
extraordinary occurring which might render this town an unsafe abiding
place, I will forward her in safety to Nuremberg, even I if I have to
detach a score of my men as her escort.”
Before mounting again Malcolm paid a hurried visit to Thekla, who
expressed her contentment with her new abode, and her readiness to stay
there until he should return to take her to Nuremberg, even should it be
weeks before he could do so.
“I quite feel among friends now,” she said, “and Colonel Munro and your
Scotch officers will, I am sure, take good care of me till you return.”
Glad to feel that his charge was left in good hands Malcolm mounted
his horse with a light heart and galloped away. Four days later he was
closeted with the Swedish chancellor, and relating to him the scene in
the castle at Pilsen. When he had finished his narrative Oxenstiern, who
had, before Malcolm began, read the letter which Wallenstein had sent
him, said:
“After what you tell me there can be no longer the slightest doubts of
Wallenstein's intention. Ever since the death of the king he has been
negotiating privately with me, but I could not believe that he was
in earnest or that such monstrous treachery was possible. How could I
suppose that he who has been raised from the rank of a simple gentleman
to that of a duke and prince, and who, save the fortunes which he
obtained with his wives, owes everything to the bounty of the emperor,
could be preparing to turn his arms against him?”
“It is true that he has done great things for Ferdinand, but his
ambition is even greater than his military talent. Any other man would
have been content with the enormous possessions and splendid dignity
which he has attained, and which in fact render him far richer than his
Imperial master; but to be a prince does not suffice for him. He has
been promised a kingdom, but even that is insufficient for his ambition.
It is clear that he aims to dethrone the emperor and to set himself up
in his place; however, his ingratitude does not concern me, it suffices
now that at any rate he is sincere, and that a happy issue out of the
struggle opens before us henceforth.
“I can trust him thoroughly; but though he has the will to join us has
he the power? Wallenstein, with his generals and his army fighting for
the emperor, is a mighty personage, but Wallenstein a rebel is another
altogether. By what you tell me it seems more than doubtful whether his
officers will follow him; and although his army is attached to him, and
might follow him could he put himself at its head, it is scattered in
its cantonments, and each section will obey the orders which the general
in its command may give.
“Probably some of those who signed the document, pledging their fidelity
to Wallenstein, have already sent news to the emperor of what is being
done. It is a strange situation and needs great care; the elements are
all uncertain. Wallenstein writes to me as if he were assured of the
allegiance of the whole of his army, and speaks unquestionably of his
power to overthrow the emperor; but the man is clearly blinded by his
ambition and infatuated by his fixed belief in the stars. However, one
thing is certain, he and as much of his army as he can hold in hand are
now our allies, and I must lose no time in moving such troops as are
most easily disposable to his assistance.
“I will send to Saxony and urge the elector to put in motion a force to
support him, and Duke Bernhard shall move with a division of our troops.
I will at once pen a despatch to Wallenstein, accepting his alliance and
promising him active aid as soon as possible.
“What say you, young sir? You have shown the greatest circumspection
and ability in this affair. Will you undertake to carry my despatch?
You must not travel as a Scottish officer, for if there are any traitors
among the officers of Wallenstein they will assuredly endeavour to
intercept any despatches which may be passing between us in order to
send them to the emperor as proofs of the duke's guilt.”
“I will undertake the task willingly, sir,” Malcolm replied, “and doubt
not that I shall be able to penetrate to him in the same disguise which
I before wore. When I once reach him is your wish that I should remain
near him, or that I should at once return?”
“It were best that you should remain for a time,” the chancellor said.
“You may be able to send me news from time to time of what is passing
around the duke. Before you start, you shall be supplied with an
ample amount of money to pay messengers to bring your reports to me.
Wallenstein hardly appears to see the danger of his situation; but you
will be more clear sighted. It is a strange drama which is being played,
and may well terminate in a tragedy. At any rate the next month will
decide what is to come of these strange combinations.”
The horse on which Malcolm had ridden was knocked up from the speed at
which he had travelled, and, ordering it to be carefully tended till his
return, he obtained a fresh horse and again set out. He made the journey
at the same speed at which he had before passed over the ground, and
paused for a few hours only at Amberg, where he found Thekla well and
comfortable, and quite recovered from the effects of her journeys and
anxiety. She received him with delight; but her joy was dashed when she
found that, instead of returning to remain with his regiment, as she had
hoped, he was only passing through on another mission.
At Amberg he again laid aside his uniform and donned his costume as a
craftsman. Colonel Munro gave him an escort of twenty troopers; with
these he crossed the river at nightfall, and, making a detour to avoid
the Imperialist outposts, rode some fifteen miles on his way. He then
dismounted and handed over his horse to his escort, who at once started
on their way back to Amberg, while he pursued his journey on foot
towards Pilsen. It was late the next evening before he reached the town;
and on arriving he learned that Wallenstein was still there.
The Imperialist general, immediately upon obtaining the signature of
his officers, had sent to urge Altringer and Gallas, who had been absent
from the meeting, to come to him with all speed. Altringer, on pretence
of sickness, did not comply with the invitation. Gallas made
his appearance, but merely with the intention of finding out all
Wallenstein's plans and of keeping the emperor informed of them.
Piccolomini had, immediately the meeting broke up, sent full details
of its proceedings to the court, and Gallas was furnished with a secret
commission containing the emperor's orders to the colonels and officers,
granting an amnesty for their adhesion to Wallenstein at Pilsen, and
ordering them to make known to the army that it was released from its
obedience to Wallenstein, and was placed under the command of Gallas
himself, who received orders, if possible, to arrest Wallenstein.
Gallas on his arrival perceived the impossibility of executing his
commission, for Wallenstein's troops and officers were devoted to him,
and not even the crime of high treason could overcome their veneration
and respect for him. Finding that he could do nothing, and fearful that
Wallenstein should discover the commission with which he was charged,
Gallas sought for a pretence to escape from Pilsen, and offered to go to
Altringer and to persuade him to return with him.
Wallenstein had no doubts of the fidelity of the general, and allowed
him to depart. As he did not return at once Piccolomini, who was also
most anxious to get out of the grasp of Wallenstein, offered to go and
fetch both Gallas and Altringer. Wallenstein consented, and conveyed
Piccolomini in his own carriage to Lintz. No sooner had Piccolomini
left him than he hurried to his own command, denounced Wallenstein as a
traitor, and prepared to surprise the duke in Pilsen. Gallas at the same
time sent round copies of his commission to all the Imperial camps.
Upon his arrival Malcolm at once proceeded to the castle, and, finding
the steward, requested him to inform the duke that he had returned. In
a few minutes he was ushered into his presence, and handed to him the
letter from Oxenstiern. Wallenstein tore it open without a word and gave
an exclamation of satisfaction as he glanced it through.
“This is opportune indeed,” he said, “and I thank you for bringing me
the news so rapidly. Well did the astrologer say that my destiny to
some extent depended on you; this is a proof that he was right. The
chancellor tells me that the Duke of Saxe-Lauenberg will march instantly
with four thousand men to join me, and that Duke Bernhard will move down
at once with six thousand of the best Swedish troops. I may yet be even
with the traitors.”
Although the defection of Gallas and Piccolomini and the news of the
issue of the Imperial proclamation had fallen with stunning force upon
Wallenstein, he had still faith in the fidelity of the army at large,
and he had already despatched Marshal Terzky to Prague, where all the
troops faithful to him were to assemble, intending to follow himself
with the regiments at Pilsen as soon as carriage could be obtained from
the country round. His astrologer still assured him that the stars were
favourable, and Wallenstein's faith in his own destiny was unshaken.
Upon finding that Malcolm had orders to remain with him until he was
joined by Duke Bernhard, he ordered handsome apartments to be prepared
for him, and as there was no longer any reason why the fact that a
Swedish officer was in the castle should be concealed, he commanded that
Malcolm should be furnished with handsome raiment of all sorts and a
suit of superb armour. Upon the following morning Wallenstein sent for
him.
“I have bad news,” he said. “General Suys with an army arrived at Prague
before Terzky got there, and I fear that the influence of Piccolomini,
Gallas, and Altringer have withdrawn from me the corps which they
command. Terzky will return tomorrow morning, and I shall then march
with him and the troops here to Egra. There I shall effect a junction
with Duke Bernhard, who is instructed to march upon that town.”
The duke, though anxious, still appeared confident; but the outlook
seemed to Malcolm extremely gloomy. The whole army save the regiments
around Pilsen had fallen away from Wallenstein. His princely generosity
to the generals and officers and his popularity among the troops had
failed to attach them to him now that he had declared against the
emperor, and it appeared to Malcolm that he would be able to bring over
to the Swedish cause only the corps which he immediately commanded.
Still his defection could not but cause a vast gap in the Imperial
defences, and the loss of the services of the greatest of their leaders
would in itself be a heavy blow to the Imperialist cause, which had been
almost solely supported by his commanding talents and his vast private
income. Terzky arrived on the following morning, and the same afternoon
Wallenstein with the whole of the troops at Pilsen marched towards Egra.
Among the officers attached to Wallenstein's person was a Scotchman
named Leslie, to whom and a few other confidants Wallenstein had
confided his designs. Wallenstein had at once introduced Malcolm to him,
and the two rode in company during the march to Egra. Malcolm did not
find him a cheerful companion. They chatted at times of the engagements
in which both had taken part although on opposite sides; but Malcolm saw
that his companion was absent and preoccupied, and that he avoided any
conversation as to the turn which events had taken.
At the end of the first day's ride Malcolm came to the decided
conclusion that he did not like his companion, and, moreover, that his
heart was far from being in the enterprise on which they were engaged.
The following day he avoided joining him, and rode with some of the
other officers. Upon their arrival at Egra the gates were opened at
their approach, and Colonel Butler, an Irishman who commanded the
garrison, met Wallenstein as he entered, and saluted him with all
honour. Wallenstein was pleased to find that the disaffection which had
spread so rapidly through the army had not reached Egra.
A few hours after he had entered the town Wallenstein received the news
that an Imperial edict had been issued proclaiming him a traitor and an
outlaw; he also learned that the corps under the Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg
was within a day's march of Egra. As soon as the duke retired to his
apartments Leslie sought out Colonel Butler, and revealed to him
the purposes of Wallenstein, and informed him of the Imperial order
absolving the army from their allegiance to him. The two men, with
Lieutenant Colonel Gordon, another Imperialist officer, at once
determined to capture Wallenstein and to hand him over as a prisoner to
the emperor.
In the afternoon Leslie had an interview with Wallenstein, who told him
of the near approach of the Dukes of Saxe-Lauenburg and Saxe-Weimar, and
informed him of his plans for advancing from Egra direct into the heart
of Bohemia.
The treacherous officer at once hurried away with the news to his two
associates, and it was agreed that the near approach of the Saxons
rendered it impossible for them to carry out their first plan, but that
instant and more urgent steps must be taken. That evening a banquet was
given by Butler to Wallenstein and his officers. The duke, however, was
too anxious to appear at it, and remained in his own apartment, the
rest of the officers, among them Wallenstein's chief confidants, Illo,
Terzky, and Kinsky, together with Captain Neumann, an intimate adviser
of Terzky, were among the guests. Malcolm was also present.
The banquet passed off gaily, Wallenstein's health was drunk in full
bumpers, and his friends boasted freely that in a few days he would
find himself at the head of as powerful an army as he had ever before
commanded. Malcolm had naturally been placed at the table near his
compatriots, and it seemed to him that their gaiety was forced and
unnatural, and a sense of danger came over him.
The danger indeed was great, although he knew it not. The drawbridge
of the castle had been drawn up, the avenues leading to it guarded, and
twenty infantry soldiers and six of Butler's dragoons were in hiding in
the apartment next to the banqueting hall.
Dessert was placed on the table; Leslie gave the signal, and in an
instant the hall was filled with armed men, who placed themselves behind
the chairs of Wallenstein's trusted officers with shouts of “Long live
Ferdinand!” The three officers instantly sprang to their feet, but
Terzky and Kinsky were slain before they had time to draw their swords.
Neumann in the confusion escaped into the court, where he too was cut
down. Illo burst through his assailants, and placing his back against a
window stood on his defence. As he kept his assailants at bay he poured
the bitterest reproaches upon Gordon for his treachery, and challenged
him to fight him fairly and honourably. After a gallant resistance, in
which he slew two of his assailants, he fell to the ground overpowered
by numbers, and pierced with ten wounds.
Malcolm had sprung to his feet at the commencement of the tumult, but
was pressed down again into his chair by two soldiers, while Leslie
exclaimed, “Keep yourself quiet, sir, I would fain save you as a fellow
countryman, and as one who is simply here in the execution of his duty;
but if you draw sword to defend these traitors, you must share their
fate.”
No sooner had the murder of the four officers been accomplished than
Leslie, Butler, and Gordon issued into the town. Butler's cavalry
paraded the streets, and that officer quieted the garrison by telling
them that Wallenstein had been proclaimed a traitor and an outlaw, and
that all who were faithful to the emperor must obey their orders. The
regiments most attached to Wallenstein had not entered the city, and the
garrison listened to the voice of their commander.
Wallenstein knew nothing of what had taken place in the castle, and had
just retired to bed when a band of Butler's soldiers, led by Captain
Devereux, an Irishman, burst into his apartment. The duke leaped from
his bed, but before he could snatch up a sword he was pierced through
and through by the murderers' halberts.
So fell one of the greatest men of his age. Even to the present day
there are differences of opinion as to the extent of his guilt, but
none as to the treachery with which he was murdered by his most trusted
officers. That Wallenstein owed much gratitude to the emperor is
unquestionable, but upon the other hand he had even a greater title to
the gratitude of Ferdinand, whose crown and empire he had repeatedly
saved. Wallenstein was no bigot, his views were broad and enlightened,
and he was therefore viewed with the greatest hostility by the violent
Catholics around the king, by Maximilian of Bavaria, by the Spaniards,
and by the Jesuits, who were all powerful at court. These had once
before brought about his dismissal from the command, after he had
rendered supreme services, and their intrigues against him were again
at the point of success when Wallenstein determined to defy and dethrone
the emperor. The coldness with which he was treated at court, the marked
inattention to all his requests, the consciousness that while he was
winning victories in the field his enemies were successfully plotting
at court, angered the proud and haughty spirit of Wallenstein almost to
madness, and it may truly be said that he was goaded into rebellion.
The verdict of posterity has certainly been favourable to him, and the
dastardly murder which requited a lifetime of brilliant services has
been held to more than counterbalance the faults which he committed.