OF THE GOOD DEEDS OUR MUSKETEERS WERE UNDOING.
My heart sickened at the thought of all I had so providentially
escaped, by the casual intervention of a passing priest.
"Come, master Rollo," thought I, as gayer ideas suggested themselves;
"you must not deem these Jesuits such bad fellows after all! Indeed
this one seems remarkably amiable. Reverend sir," said I, as we
passed the extreme outposts of Tilly's troops, and proceeded along
the margin of the Elbe, "I hope you will not incur the count's
displeasure by setting me free."
"Displeasure--oh no! My brother, John of Tserclä--for I presume you
are aware that he is a priest of our order--cannot quarrel with me
for a trifling act of mercy like this."
"This _trifling_ act has saved my life, but you value existence
lightly on the Imperial side of the Elbe. I am full of joy and
gratitude for the service you have rendered me; but why, good sir, do
you seem so much dejected?"
"I am indeed dejected, and sorrowful--exceedingly sorrowful!" he
replied, folding his hands heavily upon his breast, and bending his
eyes upon the ground.
"For what, good sir?"
"To see my own countrymen arrayed in tens of thousands against the
good cause. Ye are come to uproot and destroy that tree of knowledge
whose leaves were faith, and whose fruit was life everlasting; that
stately tree which, in other times, our pious countrymen, from the
holy Isle of Iona, in the far west, transplanted among the barbarous
Goths of Germany. For hither in those dark ages of the world, from
our old Caledonian shore, came Boniface, who, after converting all
the savages of Thuringia and Saxony, became first Archbishop of
Mentz, as we may find in the writings of Trithemius. While his
Scottish disciples founded the noble abbey of Fulda, Patto (also a
Scot) converted Westphalia, and was made Bishop of Verden. In the
8th century, St. Robert, the son of a Scottish king, converted Theodo
lord of Bavaria, with all his people, and is now the apostle of their
descendants; while Callum Bane and Gallus of Argyle rescued Swabia
from the darkness of paganrie; and the latter ceased not from his
blessed labours until he perished among the Switzers, who yet
preserve his reliques in the convent of St. Gall; and all these
things ye are come to undo! Nor need I tell you how John the Scot
became Bishop of Mecklenburg, and died a martyr, being slain by the
Wendish apostles, who, in 1066, cut off his hands and feet, leaving
this man of godliness to perish miserably by the wayside; or how, in
the year 1000, Callunianus, the son of a Scottish prince, converted
all Austria, where he was martyred, and where his reliques are yet
preserved in the convent of our countrymen, near the Scottish Gate at
Vienna. Argobastus," continued my companion, warming with enthusiasm
and reckoning on his fingers--"Argobastus, the converter of
Strasburg, and William who founded a Scottish monastery at Cologne,
another at Nuremburg, another at Aix-la-chapelle, two at Ratisbon,
and another at Würtsburg, were also Scots, as we may read in the
writings of Baronius and Trithemius; and all these blessed works ye
are come from the same land, with your muskets and bandoliers, to
undo! Virgilius the Scot, was made perpetual legate of Germany by
His Holiness Gregory VII.; nor need I expatiate on the piety, the
virtues, and the suffering of Kilian, the Culdee of Iona, who
converted all Franconia; and that ye are come to subvert and undo!
Oh! why seek to convert these lands to heresy and heathendom by the
sword? with drums beating and banners displayed? Why not try it,
like the Scots of other times, with no other weapons than the staff
and the sandals--prayer and exhortation?"
"By my faith, reverend sir, a salvo of good cannon-shot is the best
exhortation for such a congregation as Tilly and his Croats," said I,
half stunned by the vehemence of the Jesuit, and the facility with
which he enumerated so many barbarous names. "My good father and
countryman," I added; "we came hither neither to convert like the
Scots of old, nor to persecute like Count Tilly. But we are come to
fight the battles of those who cannot fight for themselves; to win
honour and fame like true cavaliers, to clip the wings of the
Austrian eagle, and to defend the civil and religious liberties of
Northern Europe--a high and a glorious mission!"
"To overturn the faith of God!--the church which is founded on the
rock of ages, and is cemented by the blood of many a martyr. Oh!
were you to see, as I have seen at Melek, the body of our countryman
St. Colman, undecayed, uncorrupted, pure and fair, as on that day in
the year 1012, when, after returning there barefooted from Jerusalem,
the barbarians hanged him on a tree, where he swung untainted by the
weather, and untouched by the ravens, until the good Bishop of
Aichstadt conveyed his reliques to Alba Regulis, upon a mountain in
Hungary, where they have converted many by the miracles they work
daily; but all these good and wondrous things ye are come with your
pikemen and musketeers to subvert and undo!"
"By Jove! Father Daidle, I do not think the corbies would have
respected me as they did this good man; but sure I am, that so far as
toil and fasting go, our poor Scottish soldiers endure now as much as
ever your Scottish saints did in the olden time, though not so
patiently perhaps; as we can relieve our minds, now and then, by a
good round oath."
The Jesuit paused, and said gravely, as if displeased, "Here we part,
sir. I free you as a countryman, though as a heretic, and the
soldier of a heretic king, I should have left you to the mercy of the
provost-marshal."
"Do not be chafed by my heedless way, good sir," said I, glad to
perceive that the close of this long harangue had brought me to the
verge of a small wood. "I owe you more than I can ever repay--more
than I can ever express--my life--my honour!"
"I would gladly give you a horse (though your kilt is scarcely suited
for the saddle), but I possess only a poor ass for the march."
"Why not mount yourself better? I saw nags enough and to spare,
among the Imperialists."
"It would ill become us to ride chargers, when our Master, who is in
heaven, contented himself with the humbler animal, and in memory
thereof marked it with his cross. If you escape all the dangers of
this disastrous war, and return to our common home by the shore of
Cromartie, bear my blessing to my poor brother, the dominie--for,
alas! it is all the poorer Jesuit has to send him. Keep the path
that is before you; by it your comrades marched this morning--it
leads straight to Hamburg, and to Glückstadt--farewell."
We separated--
He to return to Tilly's disorderly cantonment, and I to pursue my
solitary way.
Book the Sixth.