The intelligence of his advance had reached Stuttgardt, and had caused

much difference of feeling amongst its inhabitants. The nobility

scarcely knew what they had to expect from the Duke; the shameful

surrender of Tuebingen being an event of too recent a date to leave them

wholly without fear of his wrath. But the recollection of the brilliant

court of Ulerich von Wuertemberg and the merry days they had formerly

passed under his sway, compared to the oppressions the League had

inflicted on them, led them to incline to submission. Not a few,

however, among them had reason to dread his return. The citizens could

scarcely restrain their joy; and, quitting their houses, assembled in

groups about the streets, talking over coming events. They cursed the

League in strong terms, but silently, clenching their fists in their

pockets, and were beyond measure patriotically inclined, and full of

pugnacious propensities. Calling to mind the illustrious ancestors of

their exiled Prince, whose name of Wuertemberg they themselves bore;

they reckoned up the many noble lords sprung from the same family,

under whom they and their fathers had lived happily, and whose glorious

deeds had spread their country's fame abroad. But the most important

topic of their conversation was, that upon them depended, in a great

measure, the decision of the struggle between the League and the Duke,

as the whole country would now look upon the Stuttgardters as the

fuglemen in the contest. They were, however, no way inclined of

themselves to create an insurrection against the garrison of the

League, whom they still feared, but they whispered to each other:

"Brother, wait a little, and we'll soon have an opportunity to show

those Leaguists what we Stuttgardters are made of."

The insurrectionary spirit of the burghers did not escape the notice of

Christoph Schwarzenberg, the Leaguist governor. He perceived, but too

late, the mistake that had been committed in disbanding the army. He

applied to the representatives of his party assembled at Noerdlingen for

assistance, but gave them no hope of holding Stuttgardt unless they

sent immediate relief. Scarcely had he time to make some feeble

preparations for defence, when the rapid advance of the Duke checked

his ardour. Perceiving he could not trust the citizens, that the nobles

would not stand by him, and aware that the garrison was not strong

enough even to ensure the safety of the gates of the city, he absconded

in the night with the state council to Esslingen. Their flight was so

sudden and secret, that their families even were ignorant of it, and no

one in the town suspected the intentions of the governor and his

senate. The partisans of the League, therefore, never dreaming of the

desertion of their chiefs, treated the news of the approach of the Duke

with indifference, for they did not believe the report of his being in

the immediate neighbourhood.

The market-place in those days stood in the heart of the city. But even

then two considerable suburbs, the Saint Leonhard and the field of

tournament, were built around the town, provided with outer ditches,

walls, and strong gates, which gave them also the appearance of

fortified cities. They were separated from the old town which possessed

its own walls and gates, and its inhabitants looked down with contempt

on those of the suburbs. The market-place was the spot where the

burghers were accustomed to assemble, according to the fashion of olden

times when any extraordinary occurrence took place; and therefore, on

the eventful evening before the day of the Assumption of the Virgin,

the citizens streamed in crowds to this central point. Though every man

in those days carried arms with impunity, which gave to an assembled

multitude a fearful appearance, still the honest burghers of Stuttgardt

would not have dared to utter, in the day-time, what they now ventured

to do in the dusk. Had many of them been asked their opinion of the

Duke in the forenoon, they would have answered, "What do I care about

him? I am a peaceable citizen:" but upon this occasion, they raised

their voices, I and cried, "We'll open the gates to the Duke! away with

the Leaguists! Wuertemberg for ever!"

The moon shone bright on the assembled crowd, which waved to and fro in

restless motion, whilst a confused murmur seemed to indicate indecision

as to what was to be done, perhaps because no one was bold enough to

put himself forward on the occasion. Many heads looked out of the

windows of the gable-ended houses which surrounded the market-place;

they were the wives and families of the congregated citizens, listening

with intense anxiety to what was going on: for it must be observed that

the Stuttgardt ladies were in those days equally given to curiosity as

they now are, and in their hearts pitied the Duke.

The hum of voices became louder and louder, whilst the feeling which

ran through the crowd became more distinct. The cry "let's drive; the

soldiers from the gates, and open them to the Duke," passed from mouth

to mouth, when a tall, meagre-looking man was seen to spring up on a

stone bank which surrounded the fountain, whence he overlooked the

assemblage of burghers. He flourished his long arms about in the air,

opened his large mouth, and hallooed with all his might to obtain a

hearing. The noise about him having partially subsided, a few detached

words and sentences were heard by the immediate bystanders. "What! do

the honourable burghers of Stuttgardt intend to break the oath which

they have sworn to the League? To whom do you want to open the

gates--to the Duke? He can't have a very strong force with him, for he

has no money to pay them, and he will make you open your purses. If you

surrender to him, you will have ten thousand florins to pay. Do you

hear? ten thousand florins, I say!"

"Who is that lanky fellow?" the citizens asked one another. "He's

right," said one of them, "we shall have to pay handsomely."--"Is he a

citizen, that man up there?"--"Who are you?" said one of the boldest;

"how do you know we shall have to pay?"

"I am the renowned Doctor Calmus," said the speaker, with solemn voice,

"and am quite sure of it. And who do you want to drive away? The

Emperor, the Empire, the League? Will you run your heads against so

many rich lords? and why? for Duke Utz, who only throws dust in your

eyes! Do you forget his oppressive game laws, the least part of his

tyranny? He has no more money left; he is a beggar, and has squandered

everything in Moempelgard----"

"Make him keep silence!" cried the burghers: "What is that to you? you

are not one of our citizens; away with the bald-headed mouse,--kill

him,--throw him into the fountain to feed the fish!--Long live the

Duke!"

Doctor Calmus raised his voice again, but was overpowered by the loud

shouts of the bystanders.

At this moment another troop of burghers arrived in great haste from

the suburbs. "The Duke is before the Red Hill gate," they cried, "with

cavalry and infantry. Where is the governor and his council? He will

fire into the town if the gates be not instantly opened! Away with the

Leaguists!--Who is a good Wuertemberger?"

The tumult increased. Perceiving the crowd still undecided, another

speaker mounted the bank: he was a comely-looking man, who, for a

moment, imposed on the crowd by his outward appearance. "Consider,

honourable men," he cried: "what will the illustrious council of the

League say if you----"

"Out with the illustrious council!" they answered, "away with him, tear

him down, him with the rose-coloured cloak and smooth hair, he is an

Ulmer--at him, he is an Ulmer!"

But before they could put their threats into execution, a powerful man

stept up between the two orators, knocked the Doctor over with his

right hand, and the Ulmer with his left, waving his cap in the air to

obtain a hearing. "Silence! that is Hartman," whispered the burghers,

"he understands the world; listen to what he says!"

"Hear me!" said he: "the governor and his council are nowhere to be

found, they have fled, and left us in the lurch; we'll therefore seize

these two, and keep them as hostages. And now to the Red Hill gate; our

true Duke stands before it: it is better to open the gate of our own

accord than that he should use force to do so. Who's a good

Wuertemberger, let him follow me."

He descended from his position, and was joyfully received by the crowd.

The two advocates of the League were bound and led away before they had

time to look about them. The stream of burghers now flowed from the

marketplace through the upper gate and over the broad ditch of the old

town leading to the field of tournament, and, passing the

fortification, arrived at the Red Hill gate. The Leaguist troops, who

occupied it, were soon overpowered, the gate was opened, the drawbridge

fell, and laid over the town ditch.

The leader of the Duke's infantry had, during these occurrences in the

town, stationed his best troops at this gate, as it was doubtful what

steps the League would take at the approach of the Duke. Ulerich

himself had examined the post. In vain did Albert von Sturmfeder

endeavour to persuade him that the garrison of Stuttgardt was too weak

to make any formidable resistance, in vain did he represent to him the

desire the burghers had to see him again, and would willingly open the

gates, the Duke looked darker than the night, pressed his lips

together, and gnashed his teeth in anger.

"You don't understand these things," he muttered to the young man; "you

don't know the world; they are all false; never trust any one but

yourself. They accommodate themselves to every change of wind. But I

have them this once under my thumb. Do you suppose I have been obliged

to turn my back upon my country to no purpose?"

Albert was unable to comprehend the Duke's meaning. He had seen him

firm in misfortune, yea even mild and gentle, and in speaking of the

many beneficent plans for the good of his people, which he intended to

put into execution when he returned to his country, he had seldom

manifested any violent fits of passion in talking of his enemies, and

scarcely ever betrayed any ill will towards his subjects, who had

deserted him. But whether it was the sight of his country that awakened

the feeling of vexation stronger in him than usual, whether he was

irritated that the nobility and representatives of his estates had not

come forward to welcome his arrival after he had passed the boundary of

Wuertemberg; whatever was the cause, his spirits were no longer cheerful

and buoyant. His look appeared as if troubled by a thirst for revenge,

and a certain severity and harshness in giving his opinion, struck

those about him as indications of alteration in his temper. Albert von

Sturmfeder, in particular, could not account for this new turn in

Ulerich's manner.

The town had been summoned more than half an hour. The time which had

been given was nearly expired, and still no answer had arrived. The hum

of voices was heard in the town, and a restless moving about the

streets, shewing that the besieged were doubtful whether their terms

would be accepted or not.

The Duke rode up to the lansquenets, who were resting on their halberds

and match guns, headed by their leaders, who were each occupied in

preserving discipline among their men. Albert remarked the countenance

of the Duke by the light of the moon. The veins of his of his forehead

were swollen beyond their common size, his cheeks being deeply flushed,

and his eyes sparkled like fire.

"Hewen! get the scaling ladders ready," said the Duke with a stern

voice. "Thunder and lightning! I stand before my own house, and they

will not let me in. The trumpets shall sound once more, when, if they

don't open the gates instantly, I'll fire the town and burn it to the

ground."

"_Bassa manelka!_ that's what I like," said Long Peter to his comrade,

who stood in the front rank near the Duke. "The ladders are going to be

brought, we'll climb up like cats, and drive those fellows from the

walls, and then the musqueteers will pepper them properly, _canto

cacramento_!"

"Ah! yes," said the Magdeburger, "and then we'll sally into the town,

set fire to all corners--plunder--burst open the doors--that's the fun

for us lansquenets!"

"For God's sake, my Lord Duke," said Albert, who had heard his last

words, and had observed the rapacious spirit which animated the

soldiers, "only wait a short quarter of an hour longer; recollect it is

your own capital. They are most likely still deliberating."

"What have they got to consult so long about?" replied Ulerich with ill

humour: "their rightful lord stands before his own gate, and demands

admittance. My patience is already exhausted. Spread my banner to the

light of the moon, Albert; let the trumpets sound; summon the town once

more for the last time; and if the gates are not opened by the time I

have counted thirty after the last word, by the holy Hubertus, I'll

storm the walls. Be quick! Albert."

"O sir! consider your town, your best town! Having lived so long in

it, would you now give it to the flames? Give them a little more time."

"Ha!" laughed the Duke in anger, and struck the armour of his breast

with his steel glove, which sounded through the stillness of the night,

"I see you are not inclined to enter Stuttgardt, and merit your wife

thereby. But no more words now, at the risk of my displeasure, Albert

von Sturmfeder. Obey my order quickly: unfurl my banner, let the

trumpet sound! sound and frighten the dogs out of their sleep, that

they may know a Wuertemberger stands here, and will enter his house in

spite of the Emperor and Empire. I say, summon them again, Sturmfeder!"

The young man obeyed the order in silence, and riding close up to the

ditch, unfurled Wuertemberg's banner. The rays of the moon appeared to

welcome it back to its country, and shone full upon it, whereby the

four fields with their charges were plainly exhibited to view. On a

large flag of red silk were wove the arms of Wuertemberg, with its

escutcheon and four fields. In the first were the stag horns of

Wuertemberg, in the second the balls of Teck, the third had the

storming flag of the empire, which belonged by right to the Duke as

banner-bearer of the empire, and in the fourth were the fish of

Moempelgard: the whole being surmounted by the crown and the bugle of

Urach. The strong arm of the young man could scarcely hold the heavy

flag in the breeze. He was attended by three trumpeters, who now

sounded their wild tones before the closed gate.

A window above it opened, and a voice asked their business. Albert von

Sturmfeder answered, "Ulerich, by the grace of God Duke of Wuertemberg

and Teck, Count of Urach and Moempelgard, summons for the second and

last time his city of Stuttgardt, to open its gates willingly and

instantly to him, else he will storm the walls and treat the town as an

enemy."

During the time Albert was delivering his message, a confused noise as

of a crowd in motion mingled with voices in the streets was heard,

which approaching nearer and nearer, at length broke out into tumult

and shouting.

"May my soul be punished, if they are not about to make a sortie!" said

Long Peter, loud enough to be heard by the Duke.

"Perhaps you are right," answered the Duke, turning abruptly to the

startled lansquenet: "close in together, present your pikes, and have

the matches ready, that we may receive them as they deserve."

The whole line retreated some distance from the ditch, leaving only the

three first companies at the point where the drawbridge fell. A wall of

pikes bristled in formidable array against a sudden attack, the guns

were presented and the match held at the touchhole ready to fire. The

dead stillness of expectation which reigned without the walls was

broken by the tumultuous noise within the town. The drawbridge fell,

but no enemy sallied forth to repel the invaders: three old grey-headed

men alone proceeded through the gate, bearing the arms of the city,

with its keys.

When the Duke saw the peaceable mission approach, he rode towards them

in a friendly manner, followed by Albert. Two of these men appeared to

be councillors or magistrates: they bent their knee before their lord

and master, and tendered him the proofs of their submission. He gave

them to his attendants, and said to the ambassadors, "You have kept us

waiting somewhat long outside: truly we should very shortly have

mounted the walls, and have lighted up your town with our own hands,

and made your eyes smart with the smoke of it. Why did you keep us

waiting so long?"

"Oh, my Lord!" said one of the old men, "as far as the burghers were

concerned they were ready to open the gates instantly; but we have some

few principal members of the League still among us, who held long and

dangerous speeches to the people to instigate them to rebellion against

your grace. That is the true cause of the delay."

"Ha! who are those men?" said the Duke. "I hope you have taken care not

to let them escape, for I would like to say a word to them."

"God forbid, your highness! we know our duty to our lord, and therefore

seized them immediately and put them in confinement. Is it your wish to

see them?"

"To-morrow morning in the castle, I'll examine them. Send to the

executioner at the same time; perhaps it will be requisite to take

their heads off."

"Prompt justice, just what they deserve," said a shrill croaking voice

behind the two burghers.

"Who is it that interrupts me?" said the Duke, when looking around, an

extraordinary figure of diminutive size stepped forward, carrying a

hump with which nature had ornamented his back, and which was concealed

under a black silk cloak. His well-combed grey locks were covered by a

small pointed hat; a pair of eyes, which bespoke cunning and intrigue,

sparkled under bushy grey eyebrows; and a thin moustache, which sprung

out from under an eagle-like nose, gave him much the appearance of a

feline animal. An expression of fawning courteousness lay upon his

wrinkled features, and when he uncovered his head at the Duke's salute,

Albert felt an insuperable disgust and a peculiar abhorrence at the

sight of him.

The Duke, when he noticed the little man, called to him in a friendly

way: "Ha! Ambrosius Bolland, our chancellor! are you still alive? You

might have made your appearance before now, methinks, for you must have

known we were in our country again; but you are, notwithstanding,

welcome to us."

"Most illustrious Duke!" answered the chancellor, Ambrosius Bolland, "I

have been laid up with a violent fit of gout, which would scarcely

allow me to leave my house; pardon me, therefore, your----"

"Very well, very well," said the Duke, smiling, "I'll soon cure you of

the gout. Come to us in the castle to-morrow morning; it is our

pleasure at present to ride through the town. Forwards, my faithful

banner-bearer!" he turned to Albert, with gracious demeanour, "you have

kept your word honestly as far as the gates of Stuttgardt; I will

reward your faithful service. By Saint Hubertus, the bride is yours

according to justice and right. Carry my flag before me, we'll plant it

on my castle, and tread the Leaguist banner in the dust! Gemmingen and

Hewen, you are my guests for the night; we'll see if the lords of the

Swabian League have left us any of our old wine."

Thus rode Duke Ulerich, surrounded by his knights, who had followed him

in his train through the gates of his capital. The burghers received

him with loud _vivas_, and the pretty damsels in the windows waved

their white handkerchiefs, to the annoyance of their mothers, who

thought these salutations were directed to the handsome young knight

carrying the Duke's banner, and who, as seen by the light of their

torches, recalled to their minds St. George, the dragon-killer.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Oh, may the deeds of those no more,

The glory that they won,

The sire's spirit hovering o'er,

So stimulate the son,

That this day's setting sun may see

Of no degenerate clay are we.

P. CONZ.

When Albert von Sturmfeder viewed the old castle of Stuttgardt the next

morning, it did not exhibit the same form which it has in our days, the

present one having been built by the Duke's son, Prince Christoph. The

residence of the former Dukes of Wuertemberg stood in the same place;

and differed little in plan and appearance from Christoph's work,

except that it was for the most part built of wood. Being surrounded by

broad and deep ditches, over which a bridge led to the town, a large

open space in front served in early times as a tilt-yard for the gay

court of Ulerich, whose powerful hand had often rolled many a knight in

the arena. The interior also of the building bespoke the customs and

usages of the times. High and vaulted halls occupied the lower part of

the castle, and were generally used in rainy weather as a place for

manly exercises, having space sufficient to admit of the largest lance

being wielded without hindrance. Old chronicles mention the size of

these halls as being spacious enough to contain between two and three

hundred persons at table. A broad stone staircase, capable of admitting

two horsemen to ride abreast, and made for that purpose, led to the

upper apartments, where the splendour of the rooms, the grandeur of the

hall of the knights, and the richly ornamented galleries used for

dancing and play, corresponded with the exterior appearance of the

castle.

Albert viewed with an eye of astonishment the extravagant splendour of

the palace. When he compared the establishment of his ancestors with

what he now saw, how small and confined they seemed to him! He

recollected the stories he had heard of the brilliancy of Ulerich's

court, on the occasion of his magnificent marriage, when seven thousand

guests, from all parts of the German empire, caroused in this castle,

in whose vaulted halls and spacious court-yards all kinds of games and

merrymaking were held for a whole month; and a numerous assembly of

noblemen, with all the greatest beauties of the day, kept up the merry

dance till late at night. He looked down into the garden of the castle,

which, from its beauty, was called Paradise. His fancy peopled the

shaded walks and summerhouses, which were scattered about it, with the

joyous throng of gallant knights and stately ladies, enjoying

themselves with mirth and song. But alas! how deserted and empty were

they now; and when he compared their present state with the picture his

imagination had created, what a lesson of this world's vanity did it

not give! The guests of the marriage feast, the brilliant merry court,

all are vanished, said he to himself; the princely bride is flown, the

brilliant circle of women by whom she was surrounded scattered to the

four winds; knights and counts, who once feasted in these halls, have

deserted their prince; the tender pledges of his marriage now in a

distant land, in the hands of his enemies; and the lord of the castle

is left alone to brood in solitude over his misfortunes, and think only

of revenge; and who knows how long he will be allowed to remain in the

house of his ancestors; who knows whether his enemies will not get the

upper hand again, and, overpowering him, drive him into misery twofold

greater than what he has already experienced.

The young soldier attempted in vain to repress these gloomy thoughts,

which the contrast between the splendour of the surrounding objects and

the misfortunes of the Duke involuntarily awakened in his mind. In vain

he summoned to his aid the portrait of that beloved being, whom he

hoped soon to call his own for ever; in vain he painted, in the most

glowing colours, to his imagination, all the charms of domestic

happiness in her company; he was still unable to shake off the gloomy

ideas which the sight of the castle had produced on his mind. Whatever

was the cause of it, whether it was the Duke's lofty character, which

he had so nobly manifested in misfortune, and which had created so deep

a feeling of admiration in the breast of the young man, or whether

nature had gifted him with an extraordinary perception into future

events, he remained riveted to the spot in deep thought. Persuaded that

the Duke's affairs were any thing but prosperous, he felt himself in

duty bound to warn him against some unforeseen impending danger which

irresistibly haunted his mind.

"Why so much wrapped in thought, young man?" asked an unknown voice

behind him, and roused him from his reverie: "I should have thought

Albert von Sturmfeder had reason to be of good cheer."

Albert turned round in surprise, and cast his eyes upon the chancellor,

Ambrosius Holland. If this man had struck Albert the night before, as

being peculiarly forbidding by his officious courteousness, his

cat-like sneaking manner, he was now more confirmed in his dislike,

when he remarked the deformity of his person, rendered more conspicuous

by an overladen finery of dress. His dark-yellow shrivelled-up face,

with an eternal hypocritical smile upon it, his green eyes peeping out

under long grey eyelashes, his highly inflamed eyelids, and scanty

beard, contrasted strangely with a red velvet cap, and a gown made of

bright yellow silk, which hung over his hump. Under the gown he wore a

grass-green dress, slashed with rose-coloured silk, his knee-bands

being of the same material, fastened with enormous rosettes. His head

was stuck close between his shoulders, and the red cap, which he

carried on it, appeared to belong equally to the hump. It was a great

joke of the executioner of Stuttgardt, that of all heads, that of the

chancellor Ambrosius Bolland would appear to be the most difficult to

cut off.

This was the man who looked up at Albert von Sturmfeder with a

courteous smile. He addressed him with smooth words, "Perhaps you don't

know me, my much esteemed young friend: I am Ambrosius Bolland, the

chancellor of his highness. I come to wish you a good morning."

"I thank you," said Albert; "and esteem it a great honour, if you have

put yourself out of your way on my account."

"Honour to whom honour is due! you are the pattern and crown of our

young knighthood! Truly, you who have stood by my master so faithfully

in his necessity and dangers have a claim to my most inward thanks, and

my particular respect."

"You might have bought your compliments much cheaper had you joined us

at Moempelgard," replied Albert, who was offended by the adulation of

the flatterer. "There is no necessity to speak of fidelity; it were

better to reprove the want of it."

A momentary ray of anger shot from the green-eyed chancellor, but he

soon regained his fawning manner. "To be sure, I am of the same

opinion. For my part, I was so crippled with gout, I could not travel

to Moempelgard; but now, what little power heaven has left me shall be

devoted with redoubled zeal to the Duke's service."

He paused a moment, expecting an answer; but Albert was silent, and

eyed him with a glance which he did not well know how to interpret.

"Well, but you will now be able to enjoy your prosperity," continued

the chancellor; "of course it is nothing more than you deserve, and the

Duke has well chosen his favourite. Will you allow Ambrosius Bolland

also to acknowledge his sense of your services? Are you an amateur of

curious arms? Come to my dwelling in the market-place, and choose what

most pleases you out of my armoury. If you are a lover of rare books, I

have a whole chest full, much at your disposal, and pray select any you

may fancy, as is the custom among friends. Come and dine with me

sometimes; my niece keeps house for me, a pretty girl of seventeen

years; only I must beg of you--hi! hi! hi!--not to look at her too

close."

"Don't be afraid; I am already engaged."

"So? ah, that's acting like a Christian; it's very praiseworthy. It is

not always that we find such virtue among the youth of the present day.

I was quite certain that Sturmfeder was a pattern of virtue. But what I

wanted to say was, that we--being the only two as yet who compose the

Duke's court--we must keep together, and not allow any one to be

appointed without our consent. Do you understand me? hi! hi!--one hand

washes the other. But we can talk over that some other time. You will

honour me with a visit sometimes?"

"When my time will allow me, Chancellor Ambrosius Bolland."

"I would willingly remain longer in your society, for your presence

does my heart good; but I must now to the Duke. He is going to sit in

judgment this morning on two prisoners who tried to excite the people

to rebellion against him last night. Who would bet that Beltler was not

already appointed."

"Beltler!" asked Albert, "who is he?"

"He is the executioner, most worthy young friend."

"For heaven's sake! the Duke surely will not stain the first day of his

new government with blood!"

The chancellor smiled bitterly, and answered: "You do honour again to

your excellent heart, but you are not fit to sit in a court of criminal

justice. Examples must be made. One of them," he continued, with a soft

voice, "will be beheaded because he belongs to the nobility, and the

other, being a low fellow, will be hanged. God bless you, my dear

friend!"

With these words the chancellor departed, treading with light step the

long gallery which led to the Duke's apartment. Albert followed him

with a look of contempt and disdain. He had heard that this man

formerly, either by prudence, or, perhaps, rather by an unwarrantable

exercise of artful cunning, had gained great influence over Ulerich: he

had often heard the Duke himself speak of the great confidence he had

in his cleverness in state affairs. He knew not why, but he feared for

the Duke should he put too much faith in the chancellor, for he thought

he could read intrigue and falsehood in his eye.

Just as he saw the hump and flowing yellow cloak turn the corner at

the end of the gallery, a voice whispered to him: "Don't trust that

yellow-faced hypocrite!" It was the fifer of Hardt, who had stolen to

his side unnoticed.

"How! are you there, Hans?" cried Albert, and gladly proffered his

hand. "Are you come to the castle to visit us? that's very kind; you

are more heartily welcome than that humpbacked knave; but what have you

to say of him that I should beware of?"

"He is a false man, and I have warned the Duke not to follow his

advice, which made him very angry with me. He puts his whole confidence

in him."

"But what did he say? Have you seen him this morning?" asked Albert.

"I went to take my leave of him, for I am going home to my wife and

child. The Duke appeared moved at first, spoke of the days of his

exile, and asked me to mention any act of grace he could confer upon

me. But I merited none, for what I have done for him was only paying

off an old debt. I asked him at last, not being able to think of

anything else, to allow me the liberty to shoot my fox without being

punished as a poacher. He laughed, and said I might do it, but that was

no act of grace, I must demand something else. Well, I took courage,

and said, I beg of your grace not to put too much confidence in the

crafty chancellor, for it is my opinion he is false at heart."

"That's just what I think," cried Albert; "he looked as if he wanted to

spy into my most inward thoughts with those green eyes of his; but what

answered the Duke?"

"'You understand nothing upon such subjects,' was his reply, and became

angry; and added, 'you may be a faithful and sure guide among clefts

and caverns, but the chancellor understands state intrigues better than

you.' It may be," added the fifer, "that I am wrong in my conjectures;

I hope so, for the Duke's sake. So now farewell, sir; may God protect

you! Amen."

"Will you really go, and not remain for my wedding?" said Albert. "I

expect the knight of Lichtenstein and his daughter here to-day. Stay a

day or two longer: you were our messenger of love, and ought not to

desert us at this happy moment."

"Of what use can a poor man like me be at the wedding of a knight? I

might, indeed, sit among the musicians, and take part in the music in

honour of the happy event; but others can do it as well as me, and my

house requires my presence."

"Well then, farewell," said Albert; "give my salutations to your wife

and Barbelle, and visit us often in Lichtenstein. God be with you!"

A tear filled the eye of the young man as he gave the peasant a hearty

parting shake of the hand, for he had always found him an honest

trustworthy man, a faithful servant of the Duke, a bold companion in

danger, and cheerful society in misfortune. He was about asking many

questions concerning the mysterious life which this man followed, for

he was particularly curious to know the cause of his extraordinary

attachment to the Duke, but he suppressed them out of delicacy to his

feelings. The natural greatness of mind which characterised the fifer

of Hardt, though he were a common peasant, awed him into silence

touching those subjects which his friend had always appeared to wish to

avoid.

"But, I have one thing more to say," said Hans, as he was going: "do

you know that your old friend and future cousin-in-law, von Kraft, is

here?"

"The scribe to the council? how did he come here? he's a Leaguist!"

"He is here, nevertheless, and not in the most agreeable position--for

he is in prison. Yesterday evening, when the people assembled in the

market place, in consequence of the Duke's arrival, it appears he

addressed them in favour of the League."

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Albert, "was that Dieterich Kraft, the

scribe? I must go instantly to the Duke, who now sits in judgment upon

him, or the chancellor will have his head off. Good bye!"

The young man hurried along the corridor to the Duke's apartment. He

had been in the habit in Moempelgard of having immediate access to him

at all times of day, and, therefore, the porter now respectfully opened

the door. He entered in a hasty manner, to the astonishment of the

Duke, who was somewhat displeased; but the chancellor masked his

hypocrisy, as usual, under a smile of mildness.

"Good morning, Sturmfeder," said the Duke, who sat at a table, dressed

in a green coat embroidered in gold, with a green hunting cap on his

head; "I hope you have slept well in our castle. What brings you thus

early to us? we have important business."

The eyes of the young man had in the mean time anxiously looked about

the room, and there discovered the scribe of the Ulmer council standing

in a corner. He was as pale as death; his hair, which was wont to

be combed with great care, hung in disorder over his neck, and a

rose-coloured gown which he wore over a black coat was torn to tatters.

His eyes met Albert's with a most pitiable look, and he then glanced

upwards, as much as to say, "it is all over with me." Near him stood

other men: one of whom, tall and meagre, he thought to have seen

before. The prisoners were guarded by Peter, the brave Magdeburger, and

Staberl of Vienna. They stood at their post with outstretched legs,

their halberds resting on the floor, upright as candles.

"I say, we have important business at present," continued the Duke;

"but why do you look so intent upon him with the rose-coloured gown? he

is a hardened sinner; the sword is being sharpened for his neck!"

"Will your highness allow me but one word," replied Albert. "I know

that man, and would stake all I possess in the world, that he is a

peaceable subject; and positively not a criminal who deserves death."

"By Saint Hubertus, that is a bold speech! You have changed your

nature, methinks: my chancellor, the worthy jurist, has put himself

forward like a young warrior; and you, my young soldier, would assume

the advocate. What say you to that, Ambrosius Bolland?"

"Hi! hi! I adorned my person by way of letting your highness have a

joke, for I know, of old date, you are fond of a little fun; and our

dear good Sturmfeder, for the sake of adding to it, plays the part of a

jurist. Hi! hi! hi! but all he may say or do, he cannot save him in the

rose-coloured gown. High treason! he must lose his head, poor fellow!"

"Mr. Chancellor," cried Albert, glowing with anger, "the Duke can

witness, that I was never accustomed to play the buffoon. I don't wish

to rival any person in this sort of character; but I never play or make

sport with the life of a fellow creature! I am seriously in earnest,

when I pledge my life for the noble Dieterich von Kraft, scribe to the

council of Ulm, now present before you. I hope my bail will be taken."

"How?" said Ulerich, "is he the elegant gentleman, your host in Ulm, of

whom you have often spoke to me. I regret that he committed himself so

far as to be taken in the act of creating an insurrection, under very

suspicious circumstances."

"Certainly," croaked Ambrosius, "a _crimen lesae majestatis!_"

"Permit me, sir, to speak," said Albert. "I have studied law long

enough to know, that in this case it is absurd to talk of treason. The

governor and council of the League were still in the town last night,

consequently Stuttgardt was in the power of the enemy, and the scribe,

who is in no wise a subject of his highness, did not act differently

from any other Leaguist soldier, who takes the field against the Duke

by the orders of his superiors."

"Ei, youth, youth! How nicely it accommodates itself to circumstances!"

said the chancellor; "but my worthy friend, you must know that so soon

as the Duke summoned the town, and had the _animum possidentis_, every

thing within its walls belonged to him. Therefore, any conspiracy

against his royal person, becomes high treason immediately. The

prisoner Dieterich von Kraft held very dangerous language to the

people."

"Impossible! it is quite contrary to his manner and principles. My Lord

Duke, it cannot be!"

"Albert!" said the Duke in earnest, "we have had much patience in

hearing what you have to say; but it can do your friend no good. Here

is the protocol. The chancellor had examined witnesses before I came,

and every thing is proved as clear as day. We must make an example. The

chancellor is perfectly right; therefore I cannot hold out any act of

grace in the prisoner's favour."

"But allow me to ask him and the witnesses one question--only a few

words," said Albert.

"That is against all forms of justice," said the chancellor; "I must

protest against it; it is an infringement on my office."

"Let it be, Ambrosius," said the Duke. "He may ask a question, with all

my heart, of the poor sinner, who has no chance of escape."

"Dieterich von Kraft," said Albert, addressing the prisoner, "how came

you to be in Stuttgardt?"

The forlorn scribe, whom death seemed already to have made his prey,

turning his eyes towards him, his teeth chattering from fear, was

scarcely able to mutter a word in answer. "I was sent here by the

council of Ulm, as secretary to the governor."

"How was it that you appeared before the burghers of Stuttgardt,

yesterday evening?" said Albert.

"The governor ordered me to remind them of their duty and oath, should

there, perchance, be an insurrection against the League."

"Don't you perceive, he was only acting under orders?" said Albert,

turning to the Duke. "Who took you prisoner?" he continued with the

examination.

"The man standing beside you."

"Did you take this gentleman into custody? then you must have heard

what he said; what did he say?" said Albert to the man.

"Yes, I heard what he said," answered the burgher; "he had spoken but

six words, when burghermaster Hartmann threw him down from the bank. I

remember what they were, namely: 'Recollect, my friends, what will the

illustrious council of the League say!' That was all, and then Hartmann

took him by the collar. But there stands Doctor Calmus, who made a

longer speech."

The Duke roared with laughter, first looking at Albert and then at the

chancellor, who turned pale, and was so disconcerted, that he could

scarcely muster up courage to join in his master's hilarity. "Were

those all the dangerous words he spoke--is this the charge of high

treason--'What would the council of the League say?' Poor Kraft! These

few words have brought your neck within a hair's breadth of the

executioner's sword. We have often heard our friends say, 'What will

folks think, when they hear the Duke is in the country again?'

therefore, I will not punish him. What think you of it, Sturmfeder?"

"I know not what reason you could have had," said Albert, addressing

the chancellor, with anger beaming in his eyes, "to have pushed the

case to such lengths, and advised the Duke to these harsh measures;

which, instead of healing past grievances, would only cause the cry of

'tyrant' to be raised everywhere against him. If you have acted from an

overheated zeal of duty, you have this once surpassed the bounds of

discretion."

The chancellor was silent, and satisfied himself by throwing a furious

glance at the young man. The Duke stood up, and said, "You must not

blame my little adviser for his zeal in my cause, which has perhaps

made him act with too much severity in this instance. There, take your

rose-coloured friend with you, give him a glass to expel his ghastly

fear, and then let him go wherever he will. And you, dog of a doctor,

as for you, who are not worthy of the title of dog doctor, a Wuertemberg

gallows is too good for you. You will be hung one of these days, so I

will not give myself the trouble to do it at present. Long Peter, order

your men to bind that fellow on an ass, with his face to the tail, and

lead him through the town, and thence let him be sent to Esslingen, to

his wise counsellors, to whom he and his beast belong. Away with him!"

The features of the wretched doctor, who had hitherto sat in fear of

death, soon cheered up by this happy change in his fate; he breathed

more freely, and made a low bow. Peter, Staberl, and the Magdeburger,

laid hold of him with savage joy, hoisted him on their broad shoulders,

and bore him away.

The scribe of Ulm shed tears of joy, and, impelled by gratitude, wanted

to kiss the Duke's cloak; but he turned away, and waved to Albert to

withdraw his friend.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Stop! stay thy hand, and hear my prayer,--

Ah, do not let it be:

You cannot, must not, will not dare

A deed unworthy thee.

SCHILLER.

The scribe of the grand council of Ulm did not appear to have

sufficiently recovered from his state of terror to answer the many

questions his preserver put to him as they passed along the passages

and galleries. He trembled in all his limbs, his knees shook, and he

often looked back with a feeling of apprehension, lest the Duke should

have repented of his act of grace, and the unmerciful chancellor in the

yellow gown should sneak after him, and suddenly pounce upon him.

Having reached Albert's apartment, he sank exhausted in a chair, and it

was some time before he could collect his thoughts to be able to answer

his friend.

"Your politics, cousin, had well nigh played you a sorry trick," said

Albert; "but what possessed you to set yourself up as a popular speaker

in Stuttgardt? And, above all, how could you think of quitting your

comfortable establishment in Ulm, the assiduous care of your old nurse

Sabina, and fly the vicinity of the charming Marie, to come here in the

service of the governor?"

"Ah! she it was who sent me into the jaws of death; she is the cause of

all my trouble. Ah! that I had never left my dear Ulm! All my

misfortunes began with my first step over our boundary."

"Did Marie persuade you?" Albert asked; "have you not succeeded in the

object of your desires? Has she discarded you, and did you out of

desparation--"

"God forbid! Marie is as good as my bride; that's my calamity. When you

left Ulm, I had a dispute with Mrs. Sabina, the nurse which determined

me to demand Marie's hand of my uncle. I was accepted; but, the girl's

head being completely turned by your military mania, nothing would

satisfy her but that I must first encounter the dangers and hardships

of a campaign, and become a man like you. Not until then would she

marry me. Oh, merciful Heaven!"

"So now you are formally in the field against Wuertemberg? What a bold

spirit that girl has!"

"Yes, I am in the field; I shall never in my life forget what I have

gone through! My old John and I were obliged to march with the army of

the League. What pain and trouble? often compelled to ride eight hours

a day. My dress was disordered, everything full of dust and filth; my

coat of mail squeezed me to death. I could stand it no longer; and as

old John ran back to Ulm, I asked for a place as writer on the staff,

hired a litter and two stout horses to carry my baggage, which made my

case more bearable."

"Then you were carried into the field like dogs to the hunt," said

Albert. "Have you been in an action?"

"Oh! yes; at Tuebingen, I was in the thick of it. Not twenty paces from

me a man was killed as dead as a mouse. I shall never forget the fright

I was in, if I live eighty years. After we had perfectly subdued the

whole country, I was appointed to the honourable situation of secretary

to the governor in Stuttgardt. We lived quietly, and in peace, until

the restless Duke returned once more to disturb us. Oh! had I but

followed my own wish, and joined the representatives of the League at

Noerdlingen! but I feared the fatigue of the journey."

"But why did you not depart with the governor when we arrived? He is

now quietly seated in Esslingen, until we hunt him out of it."

"He deserted us shamefully," said Kraft; "and intrusted everything to

my head, which has nearly suffered for it. I had not the least idea the

danger was so imminent, and allowed myself to be seduced by Doctor

Calmus to speak to the people, and warn them against breaking their

oath to the League. Had I but succeeded, it would have made a noise in

the world, and I should have stood high in Marie's estimation. But the

Wuertembergers are barbarians, and void of all decent manners. They did

not even let me say a word, but threw me down, and treated me like a

common vagabond. Just look at my cloak, it is torn to tatters! I regret

it, for it cost me four gold florins, and Marie maintains that rose

colour becomes the complexion of my face to perfection."

Albert scarcely knew whether to laugh at the folly of his friend the

scribe, or admire the stoical composure with which he lamented his torn

gown, when he had but a moment before narrowly escaped losing his head.

He was going to ask some other questions about his adventures, when an

extraordinary noise was heard under the window in the open space before

the castle; he looked out, and beckoned to Dieterich von Kraft to come

and witness a spectacle of fallen greatness.

Doctor Calmus was being paraded through the town. He was seated on an

ass, with his face towards the tail. The lansquenets had dressed him

out in a ridiculous manner, with a painted leather cap, at the top of

which was stuck a large cock's feather. Two drummers led the

procession, on either side, the Magdeburger, Staberl of Vienna, the

late Captain Muckerle, and the brave general, marched with solemn pace,

every now and then pricking the animal with the ends of their halberts

to quicken his pace. An immense crowd of people swarmed around him,

pelting him with eggs and mud.

The scribe looked down upon his unfortunate companion in distress with

pity, and sighed, "It's hard to be obliged to ride upon an ass in that

fashion, but it's better than being hanged." He turned from the scene,

and looked towards another side of the square. "Who comes here?" he

asked the young knight; "that's just the kind of thing I went to the

field in."

His friend looked round, and perceived a train of travellers with a

litter in the middle. An old man on horseback brought up the rear of

the party, which now moved towards the castle. Albert observing them

more closely, cried out, in wild joy, "It's them! it's them! it is her

father, and she is in the litter!" One spring took him out of the room,

to the great astonishment of the scribe. "Who can it be? what father?"

said he. He returned to the window, and looking out, he saw the

cavalcade stop on the drawbridge, and in the same moment his friend fly

through the gate. Dieterich then observed him to open the door like a

madman, a lady in a veil stepped out of the litter, and when she threw

it back, to his great surprise he recognised his cousin Bertha von

Lichtenstein. "But only see; he kisses her in the public street," said

the scribe to himself, shaking his head, "I have never seen such joy

before! But, alas! there goes the father to the litter; what angry eyes

he will make! how he will stamp and swear! but no, he nods kindly to my

friend; he dismounts, he embraces him.--Well, that's very curious, I

must say!"

The scribe could scarcely believe his eyes, and to convince himself

that he was not deceived, left the room, and went into the gallery,

where he perceived the old knight of Lichtenstein coming up the stairs,

leading Albert by his right hand, and Cousin Bertha by the left. He

thought a great alteration for the better had taken place in her

beautiful features, since the time they had made such a deep impression

on his heart, and still lived in his recollection.

He had seen her for the first time in Ulm, when she appeared to him

like a messenger from a fairy land, so dignified was the expression of

her eyes, majesty sat upon her brow, and her whole countenance bespoke

a mind far above the common stamp of mortals. The scribe had often

puzzled his mind in the attempt to unravel the mystery by which she had

gained such influence over him. The damsels of Ulm possessed perhaps

cheeks fresher and more plump, eyes more lively, a more attractive

smile, and perhaps greater brilliancy of youth. But there was a

something in Bertha which he could not account for, which inspired him

with awe. Was it the dark eyelashes, which, like a veil, fell over her

eyes, and concealed the starting tear? Was it the delicately compressed

lip, upon which was encamped the expression of painful grief? or the

rapid change of colour upon her features, which appeared to betray

suffering of some acute feeling--perhaps of love? Marie's cheerfulness,

her easy manners, a certain art of teasing, which imparted life and

good will to all around her, had long since driven her cousin's image

from his heart; but now that he came again in contact with the

influence of the lady of Lichtenstein, poor Dieterich von Kraft felt

all his old wounds bleed afresh. What was the power which worked in so

different a manner upon his feelings was a question beyond his

comprehension. Though there was the same dignity, the same expression,

which commands the respect and admiration of the beholder, her eye was

now animated with placid joy, a pleasing smile played on her lips, and

her cheeks bloomed with unalloyed happiness. Dieterich von Kraft had

made these observations in speechless astonishment, when the old knight

first noticed him. "Do my eyes deceive me?" he cried, "Dieterich von

Kraft, my nephew! What brings you to Stuttgardt? Perhaps you come to

the wedding of my daughter with Albert von Sturmfeder? But how you

look! What's the matter with you? How pale and miserable your whole

appearance, and your clothes hang about your body all in rags! What has

happened?"

The scribe eyed his rose-coloured gown in despair and dismay, and

blushed; "God knows!" he said, "I am ashamed to shew myself before any

decent person. These cursed Wuertembergers, these vine-dressers and

contemptible shoemakers, have mangled me in this way. Verily, and in

truth, the whole illustrious League has been attacked and insulted in

my individual person!"

"You ought to be thankful, cousin, that it was no worse," said Albert,

as he led the travellers into his apartment; "only think, father, last

night, when we stood before the gates, he was exciting the burghers to

rebellion against us, for which the chancellor wanted to have his head

this morning. It was with very great difficulty I could persuade the

Duke to pardon him; and now he complains of the Wuertembergers having

torn his cloak."

"With your gracious permission," said Mrs. Rosel, the old nurse, and

curtsied three times to the scribe, "if my assistance is agreeable,

I'll mend the gown, so that you shall not know it has been torn. The

proverb says,

'If the young man his new gown has torn,

The old woman can mend it fit to be worn.'"

Dieterich von Kraft accepted the offer with many thanks. He retired to

a window with old Rosel, when she pulled out of her large leather

pocket all the necessary articles for the purpose of repairing his

damages. She entertained him upon the inexhaustible subject of

housekeeping, particularly upon the important science of dressing

certain dishes not to be found in Mrs. Sabina's catalogue of cookery.

At a distance from this couple, at the other end of the room, sat

Bertha and Albert, engaged in the confidential whisperings of love.

Neither Johannes Thethingerus, nor Johannes Bezius, neither Gabelkofer

nor Crusius, though we have to thank them for much important

information of old times, have mentioned what these two lovers had to

say to each other on that morning. Thus much we know, however, that

satisfaction rested upon Bertha's features, expressive of her joy at

the near approach of the happy moment to complete her union with

Albert.

The reader will thank us if we lead him from a scene of so little

historical interest, and of which every one is supposed to know more or

less, to follow the path of the knight of Lichtenstein. Having left his

daughter to the care of Albert, and his nephew to the ingenious hand of

Mrs. Rosel, he himself repaired to the apartment of the Duke. Age had

imprinted on his countenance an air of gravity, which at this hour

appeared to have received an additional stamp of painful thought,

amounting almost to despondency. This man had inherited his love for

the house of Wuertemberg from his ancestors. Habit and inclination had

bound him to the sovereigns who had presided over Wuertemberg during the

course of his long life. The misfortunes and calumnies which, had been

heaped upon Ulerich, had not had the effect of shaking the faithful

heart of the old man in the Duke's cause. On the contrary, they tended

only to draw the ties of friendship tighter. With the joy of a

bridegroom who hastens to the wedding, and with the strength and

vivacity of youth, he undertook the long and fatiguing journey from his

castle to Stuttgardt, when he heard the Duke had taken Leonberg, and

had advanced to the capital. Having entertained no doubt of the Duke's

success, he was not deceived in his calculation, and he arrived at

Stuttgardt the morning after the establishment of the new authority.

The news which Albert imparted to him as they proceeded up stairs, was

not calculated to excite the joy of the old man. "The Duke," he

whispered to him, "the Duke does not appear to be inclined to act with

prudence; God knows what his intentions may be respecting the

government of the country, for he let fall some extraordinary

sentiments on the road, which I fear will not be improved in the hands

of his chancellor, Ambrosius Bolland." The mere mention of this name

was sufficient to raise great uneasiness in the breast of the knight of

Lichtenstein. He was acquainted with Bolland; and though he knew him to

be expert, and particularly well versed in state affairs, and capable

of executing any intricate piece of service, yet he was a man who had

often played a deep, if not a false game. "Should the Duke give his

confidence to this man, and follow his council, may God be merciful to

him! The country is a mere bit of parchment in the eyes of Ambrosius,

to be turned and twisted according to his whim. He'll know how to shape

and fashion it preparatory to meeting the Duke's eye; but he'll keep

the pen in his own hand. But, as old Rosel would say, 'Any fool can cut

out; the art is to sew the garment together.'" Thus thought the knight

of Lichtenstein, in passing along the gallery. He seized his long white

beard in anger; whilst his heart beat with zeal in the cause of

Wuertemberg.

He was immediately admitted to the presence of the Duke, whom he found

in deep; consultation with Ambrosius. The latter was seated, holding a

large swan's pen in one hand and a parchment in the other, which was

written over with black, red, and blue ink, in many neat columns. The

Duke was playing with a piece of sealing wax, which he held in his

hand; and appeared in a state of indecision, first casting a

penetrating glance at the chancellor, and then looking at the wax, as

if it were destined to seal some important document. They were both so

deeply immersed in their occupation, that Lichtenstein stood some

minutes in the room, contemplating with intense interest the noble

features of the Duke, without being remarked. The various sensations

which were agitating him were plainly visible upon his countenance and

in his expressive eyes. The frown upon his forehead, giving place in

rapid succession to a milder expression, bespoke a mind hesitating

between an act of severity and one of grace, whilst his companion,

presenting him with the pen which he held in his hand, sat before him

like the tempter. He turned and moved about like the serpent; and the

eternal hypocritical smile, which his little green eyes could with ease

convert into the expression of humility when his master looked at him

sharply, appeared to urge him to taste the forbidden fruit.

"I cannot comprehend," said the chancellor with an insinuating tone of

voice, "why your Grace will not do it! Did Caesar hesitate to pass the

Rubicon? A great man must use strong measures. The present age and

futurity will laud your courage in having burst asunder the chains

which now bind your hands."

"Are you so sure of that, Ambrosius Bolland?" replied the Duke, with a

look of doubt. "Will it not be said, Duke Ulerich was a tyrant: he

abrogated the old order of things, which was held sacred by his

forefathers; and, having broken the contract which he himself

established, treated his country as an enemy, and trod under foot the

laws which----"

"Permit me," interrupted the other: "the only question is, who is to be

master--the Duke or the country? If the country is to govern, the case

is different; for then pacts, contracts, clauses, and such like, are

necessary. The nobles, clergy, and commons, would be the masters, and

your grace--a mere cypher; but if you hold the reins in your own hand,

and wield your own will unrestricted, from that moment you become the

source of all law. The sword is now in your hand,--you are lord and

master; therefore, away with the old law--here is a new one--take the

pen, and, in God's name, sign."

The Duke remained some time in doubtful suspense, agitated between

conflicting struggles of conscience. At length, as if impelled by some

evil genius, he said, "Am not I Wuertemberg itself? the country and laws

are concentrated in my person--I will sign!" He stretched out his hand

to receive the pen from the chancellor, when he felt his arm arrested.

He looked around in surprise, and met the placid but stern eye of the

knight of Lichtenstein.

"Ha! welcome, my faithful Lichtenstein; I will be ready to speak with

you instantly, only let me sign this parchment."

"Allow me, your grace," said the old man: "having promised me a voice

in your council, may I look at the first ordinance which you are about

to issue to your country."

"With your most noble permission," said Ambrosius Holland, hastily,

"delay were dangerous: the citizens of Stuttgardt are already

assembled, and it is requisite to read the proclamation without loss of

time."

"The thing is not so very pressing, after all," said the Duke, "that we

cannot impart the contents to our friend. We have accordingly

determined," he added, addressing Lichtenstein, "to administer a new

oath of fidelity, making the people swear allegiance to us, under a

fresh contract and different laws. The old ones are null and void from

henceforth."

"Is that your determination?" replied the knight of Lichtenstein; "and

have you maturely considered what will be the consequences of this act?

Did you not swear but a few years ago to the Tuebingen compact?"

"Tuebingen!" cried the Duke with a terrible voice, his eyes flashing the

fire of indignation; "Tuebingen! mention that word no more! In that vile

city were centred all my hopes, my country, my children,--ha! and on

that spot was I betrayed and sold. I begged, I implored them to hold

out to the last; I was ready to share my property, my blood with them

in its defence; but no! they would not hear of Ulerich, nor listen to

his voice. They preferred the new order of things; they suffered me to

linger in the misery of banishment, and caused the name of Wuertemberg

to become the contempt and derision of all the world. But now that I am

lord and master again, with my sword in my hand, I'll not allow it to

be wrenched a second time from my grasp. If they have forgotten their

oath, by Saint Hubertus, my memory is also equally treacherous. The

Tuebingen compact, did you say? May dire necessity confound every thing

connected with that name!"

"But recollect, your grace!" said Lichtenstein, staggered at this burst

of passion; "think of the impression such a step will make throughout

the country. At this moment you have only Stuttgardt and its

neighbourhood in your possession; whereas Urach, Asperg, Tuebingen, and

Goeppingen, have all Leaguist garrisons. Will the country people; stand

by you to drive them out, when they become acquainted with the new

ordinance to which they are to swear allegiance?"

"I maintain it," said the Duke; "did the country stand by me when I was

forced to turn my back upon Wuertemberg? No! they saw me hunted down

like a wild beast, and sided with the League!"

"Pardon me, my Lord Duke," replied the old man; "but that is not the

case. I recollect well that day in Blaubeuren. Who held to you on that

occasion, when the Swiss deserted you? who implored you not to leave

the country? who offered to sacrifice their lives in your cause? It was

eight thousand Wuertembergers! Have you forgotten that day?"

"Ay-ay! most worthy sir," said the chancellor, who was aware what an

impression these remarks were likely to make on Ulerich; "ay! but

that's nothing to the purpose. Besides, we have not to legislate upon

what took place at that time, but upon the actual state of affairs. The

country has completely absolved itself of the former oath, by swearing

allegiance to the usurpations of the League. His grace is now to be

considered in the light of a new Lord, having subdued the country by

force of arms; and, therefore, as the League instituted their own

peculiar measures, the Duke has a right to follow their example. A new

Lord gives new laws. He has the privilege at all times to govern

according to his own will and pleasure. Shall I dip the pen in the ink,

gracious sir?"

"Sir Chancellor!" said Lichtenstein, with a determined voice, "though I

have all possible respect for your learning and foresight, you advance

that which is positively false, and your counsel is dangerous. The

question now is, to ascertain who it is that the people love. The

League, by their violent measures, have estranged the public mind from

them; this was therefore precisely the most favourable moment for the

Duke to appear in the country, for all hearts are with him; but if you

repel the good feeling of the people by insidious measures, if you

attempt to destroy the ancient laws and institutions, and build upon

their ruins your own invented constitution, oh, beware! beware of the

consequences, and remember that the love of the people is the only

powerful support upon which you can rely."

The Duke stood with folded arms, deep in thought, and made no answer.

With so much more warmth did the chancellor reply: "Hi! hi! hi! where

did you concoct that pretty little speech, my most worthy and highly

honoured sir? Love of the people, did you say? The Romans, in their

day, knew very well what that meant. Nothing but soap bubbles, soap

bubbles! I thought you possessed more acuteness. To whom does the

country belong? Here! here stands Wuertemberg, personified in the Duke!

it belongs to him, he has inherited it; and besides which, he has now

conquered it. The people's love? Bah! it resembles April weather! Had

it been so strong as you talk of, would they have sworn allegiance to

the League?"

"The Chancellor is right!" cried the Duke, starting from his thoughtful

mood. "You may mean well, Lichtenstein, but this once you are in the

wrong. It was my forbearance which caused me to be driven from my

country; now that I am returned, they shall feel that I am the master.

The pen, Chancellor;--I say, it's my will and pleasure, and they shall

obey!"

"Oh! my Lord!" said Lichtenstein, "do not commit yourself in the heat

of passion: wait till your blood cools. Assemble the states, make any

alterations in the constitution you may think proper--only not at this

moment--not as long as the League possesses a foot of land in

Wuertemberg. This rash act may prejudice your cause. Consent to a short

delay."

"Indeed!" interrupted the chancellor, "and let them by degrees come

round to the old state of things? Do you suppose, when once the

representatives are assembled and talk over their affairs, they will

concede to your reform with good will? Hi! hi! force will be requisite

to compel them, and that's what will create hatred. Strike the iron

whilst it's hot. Or is it your grace's pleasure, to stand again humbly

under the yoke, and be forced to bend to circumstances?"

The Duke did not answer, but snatching the pen and parchment

impatiently out of the chancellor's hands, cast a hasty and penetrating

look, first at him and then at the knight, and, before the latter could

hinder him, signed his name. Old Lichtenstein remained in speechless

consternation; his head sunk over his breast. The chancellor glanced a

triumphant look at him and at the Duke. Ulerich seized a silver

hand-bell, which was on the table, and rang violently. A page entered,

and asked his commands.

"Are the citizens assembled?" asked the Duke.

"Yes, your grace! they are assembled on the meadow near to Cannstadt.

Six companies of the lansquenet also are moving in that direction."

"The lansquenet! Who ordered them?"

The chancellor trembled when he heard this last question. "It was only

for the sake of keeping order," said he, "I thought of it, because in

such cases it is generally the custom to have armed men by way of

precaution----"

The Duke waved to him to be silent. An expression in the look of the

knight condemnatory of this rash act, met the Duke's eye, and caused

him to blush. "It has been done without my permission," said he;

"but----if we now recall them, it would create suspicion. However, it

is of no great consequence. Bring me my red cloak and hat;--quick!"

The Duke stept to the window, and looked out in silence. The chancellor

appeared uncertain whether his master was angry or not, and did not

venture to speak; whilst the knight of Lichtenstein continued wrapt in

deep anxious thought. They remained some time in this state, until the

entrance of attendants interrupted the silence. Four pages entered the

apartment, one carrying the cloak, another the hat, a third a gold

chain, and the fourth the military sword of the Duke. They robed him in

his ducal mantle of purple velvet, trimmed with ermine. His hat was

then presented to him, carrying the black and yellow colours of the

house of Wuertemberg in rich waving plumes, bound together by a clasp of

gold, set in precious stones, the value of which was worth a seigniory.

The Duke covered his head with his hat. His powerful figure appeared

more dignified in this dress than it did before, and his open majestic

forehead, with his brilliant eye sparkling from beneath the flowing

feathers, inspired awe in those around him. He desired the pages to

place the gold chain over his neck; then, buckling on his sword, gave a

sign to the chancellor to follow.

The knight of Lichtenstein still uttered not a word. He had observed

these preparations with a troubled countenance, and turned away from

the scene. The Duke made a slight inclination of the head to his old

friend as he passed him in going towards the door, followed by the

strange figure of the Chancellor Ambrosius Bolland, who strutted with

magisterial step. He did not think it necessary to salute the old man,

his master not having done so, but satisfied his malice by casting a

crafty triumphant look at the spot where he was standing, accompanied

by a scornful smile, which played about his toothless mouth. The Duke

stopt on the threshold of the door, and, looking back, his better

nature appeared to get the mastery of him; he returned to Lichtenstein,

to the astonishment and confusion of the chancellor.

"Old man, and faithful friend," said he, trying in vain to conceal a

deep emotion which agitated him, "you were my only friend in my

troubles, and I have experienced your tried fidelity on a hundred

different occasions,--proofs sufficient to convince me of your

attachment to Wuertemberg. I feel this step the most important of my

life, and, perhaps, the most hazardous; but where the stake is high we

must risk the more."

The knight of Lichtenstein raised his venerable head, with tears in his

eyes. He seized Ulerich's hand, and said, "Remain, for God's sake!

follow my advice only this once! My hair is grey,--I have lived long,

and known and loved you since your thirteenth year." At this moment the

drums of the lansquenet sounded in the courtyard, the impatient

stamping of horses echoed through the vaulted halls, and the heralds

blew their trumpets to proclaim the taking the oath of fidelity.

"Jacta alea esto! was Caesar's motto," said the Duke, with animated

countenance. "I am now going to cross my Rubicon. But give me your

blessing, old man,--advice is too late."

The knight cast his eyes around, evidently suffering from intense

agony; his voice refused utterance to his feelings, and he pressed the

Duke's right hand to his heart in token of bestowing his blessing. The

chancellor, observing a momentary hesitation in the Duke to quit his

friend, stretched forth his long withered arm from under his cloak, and

pointed to the roll of parchment. He looked like the tempter who had

succeeded in dragging another victim after him in chains. Ulerich von

Wuertemberg tore himself away, and went to hear the oath of allegiance

administered.

CHAPTER XXX.

No furnace ever blazed so bright,

Nor glow'd the burning brand

With half so powerful a light,

As love of fatherland.

_An old popular Song._

The apprehensions of the knight of Lichtenstein were not so totally

void of foundation as Ambrosius Bolland had represented them to be. A

large portion of the country had, indeed, joined the Duke, arising

partly from, the predilection of the people in favour of the hereditary

house of Wuertemberg, but in a great measure from the oppressions of the

League, who had forcibly compelled them to submit to their rule. Many

were, at first, induced to join his standard, and declare for

Wuertemberg, when they heard that victory followed Ulerich's path; but

the new oath of allegiance, by which all ancient laws were to be

abrogated, and the report that the refractory were to be compelled by

force to subscribe to these forms, had the effect, at least, of not

adding to the Duke's popularity,--a defect, in such doubtful

undertakings as the present, often felt too late to be remedied. Urach,

Goeppingen, and Tuebingen were still in the hands of the League, having

powerful garrisons in each. Dieterich Spaet, the Duke's bitterest enemy,

was established in Urach. He recruited so many men in a few days, that

he not only kept his district in subjection, but was enabled to make

incursions into the country which had submitted to the Duke. The report

was also spread that the assembly of the League at Noerdlingen had

separated, each member hurrying home to re-organize a fresh army to

meet Ulerich a second time in the field.

The Duke, in the meanwhile, appeared nowise concerned in the midst of

the unsettled state of the country. Ambrosius Bolland was his sole

counsellor, with whom he transacted business with closed doors. Many

messengers were observed to arrive and depart, but no one could learn

what was going on. Judging from the Duke's cheerful mood, it was

thought in Stuttgardt that affairs were in a prosperous state; for when

he rode through the streets, followed by a brilliant suite, saluting

all the pretty females, and joking and laughing with his attendants who

rode by his side, every one said, "Duke Ulerich is as merry as he was

before the days of 'the Poor Conrad insurrection.'" He established his

court in its former magnificence. Though it was no longer the point of

reunion of the Bavarian, Swabian, and Franconian counts and nobles, nor

the gay assemblage of princesses who formerly attracted such a splendid

train of blooming beauties around them, there was still no lack of

handsome women and gay-dressed knights to adorn his court. The

atmosphere of the town appeared also to impart additional lustre to the

beauties of Stuttgardt at that time, for, when they congregated in the

saloons and halls of the castle, the assembly had more the character of

a select choice of the fairest belles of the land than one of ordinary

occurrence.

The dance and tournament were re-established in all their former

spirit. Feast followed feast in such rapid succession that Ulerich

seemed to wish to make up for the time he had lost in the misery of

banishment. Not the least of these gay doings was the wedding of Albert

von Sturmfeder with the heiress of Lichtenstein.

The old knight was some time before he could make up his mind to put

his promise into execution, not that he had any objection to the choice

of his daughter, for he loved his future son-in-law with the affection

of a father; he even felt his younger days revive again as it were in

his own person, and could not forget the disinterested sacrifice Albert

had made in sharing the exile of the Duke; but, like as the horizon of

Ulerich's affairs was enveloped in darkness, so was the old man's brow

clouded by anxious misgivings, apprehensive lest circumstances should

not long remain in the state they were. He was deeply hurt also that

the Duke, who gave his confidence exclusively to the crafty chancellor,

did not admit him to his council in the many weighty matters now in

agitation. Indecision and anxiety of mind, had caused him to put off

the day of joy; but, moved by the expressive eyes of his daughter, in

which he thought to read a gentle reproach, and the entreaties of

Albert, he at last consented to their importunities, and fixed a day,

to which the Duke acquiesced; but would allow of no one making the

necessary arrangements for the wedding but himself. Amidst the success

which had hitherto attended him, Ulerich did not forget those nights

when old Lichtenstein proved his attachment to him by his assiduous

attention to his wants, and when the delicate frame of his daughter

braved storm and cold to receive him at the gate of the castle, and

prepare warm food to cheer him when he came from the cavern. Neither

was the sacrifice which the bridegroom had made for his sake

obliterated from his memory. His noble mind was fully alive to the

fidelity, love, and sacrifices they had each so fully manifested, and,

therefore, he wished to prove his sense of gratitude to them. The

knight and his daughter had hitherto been his guests at the castle. He

now completely furnished a house for them near the collegiate church,

and, on the evening before the nuptials, he delivered the key of it to

the lady of Lichtenstein, begging her to make use of it whenever she

came to Stuttgardt.

The day at length arrived,--a day which Albert had once thought far

distant, but to which his most longing desire had ever been, constantly

directed. When he rose on that morning he recalled to his mind all the

circumstances which had happened to him since his heart had been

engaged, and was astonished to think how differently things had come to

pass to what he could have at first imagined. Who would ever have

supposed, when he rode through the beech wood towards his home, that

the happiness of possessing his beloved Bertha was not so distant as he

then had reason to fear? When he joined the League's army, in

opposition to the Duke, the very last thing that could have entered his

mind would have been that this same man, his enemy at that time, should

be the instrument of completing his happiness! He could now contemplate

in cheerful serenity the agitations of those days when he, with

difficulty, stole a moment to whisper a word to his beloved for fear of

her father, the avowed enemy of the League, And he thought of that hour

in Marie's garden, the most painful he had ever experienced, when he

took leave of Bertha, thinking she was lost to him for ever, whereas

this day was to bind them eternally together. Every word she had ever

spoken to him rushed to his recollection,--he was wrapped in admiration

of her firm trust in Providence, who she was persuaded would order all

things to work for their good. Though at that time their hopes, their

prospects, were veiled in a dark uncertain futurity, she did not

despond, but inspired her lover with courage when they took their

parting embrace.

The train of these thoughts was interrupted by a modest tap at the

door;--it was Dieterich von Kraft, who entered the room, dressed in his

very best.

"How?" cried the scribe of the grand council of Ulm, and clasped his

hands in astonishment,--"How? I hope you do not intend to be married in

that jacket. It is nine o'clock already; the passages and stairs of the

castle swarm with wedding guests, shining in silks and satins, and you,

the principal performer in the piece, are looking unconcerned out of

the window, instead of preparing yourself for the happy event?"

"There lies the whole concern," replied Albert, smiling, and pointing

to his dress on the bed, "cap and feathers, mantle and jacket, all of

the best quality and make; but God knows, I have not yet thought of

hanging the tawdriness on my back. This jacket which I have on is

dearer to me than all the rest; I have worn it in worse times, but

still in very happy days."

"Yes, yes! I know it well; you wore it when you were with me in Ulm,

and I don't forget how jealous Marie made me when she described it to

me in glowing terms. But do you call that new dress tawdry? By Jove, I

should be happy to possess such smart things the rest of my life! Only

look at this white vest, embroidered in gold, and the blue velvet

mantle: I have never seen anything more brilliant! truly, your choice

has been made with great taste, and the dress matches the colour of

your hair to perfection."

"The Duke presented me with it," said Albert, beginning to dress

himself; "it would have been much too expensive for my slender

finances."

"The Duke is really a splendid man; and now for the first time since I

have been here do I perceive that we were too hard upon him in Ulm.

There is some difference between life in such a city as this and that

in our town. The court of the Duke of Wuertemberg sounds much grander

than the townhall of Ulm. Still I would not like to be in his skin;

you'll see, cousin, his fortunes will go down-hill again with him."

"That's the burden of your old song, Dieterich: do you recollect how

big you talked about your politics at that time in Ulm, expatiating how

you intended to govern Wuertemberg? How stands the case now?"

"Well, has it not turned out as I said?" replied the scribe, with a

sagacious look; "I recollect, as if it were but yesterday, that I

prophesied the Swiss would return home; that we should gain the hearts

of the country people, and that the citizens would open the gates to

us."

"Yes, yes! and you helped to accomplish all this," laughed Albert,

"when you were carried to the field in a litter: but you also

prophesied that the Duke would never be able to return to his country,

and now you see he sits quietly and unmolested in his castle."

"Not so quiet as you may think. For your sake and his, I wish with all

my heart he may hold his country. The war has done me no good, for the

great men take everything for themselves, only leaving us subordinates

the honour of having our heads cut off in the cause of the League. But

though I wish him success, believe me, his affairs are not in the

prosperous state you imagine. The governor and council who fled to

Esslingen upon your arrival have petitioned the Emperor and Empire for

assistance; the League is again in motion; and a fresh army is already

assembling at Ulm."

"All talk,--nothing else," replied Albert; "I know for certain, that a

reconciliation may take place between the Duke and Bavaria."

"Yes; but there is a great difference between _may_ and _will_ take

place: thereby hangs many a difficult crotchet to unravel. But what do

I see? you are not going to put that old rag of a scarf over your new

wedding dress? they will not match together, my dear cousin."

The bridegroom regarded the scarf with a look of intense interest. "You

don't understand," he replied, "why I set such a value upon it. It was

Bertha's first present; she worked it secretly by night, in her room,

when the news came that she was soon to leave Tuebingen. It was my only

consolation when I was absent from her, and therefore I will not fail

to wear it on the happiest day of my life."

"Well, do as you please, in God's name, wear it! And now put on your

cap, and be quick with the mantle, for they are beginning to ring the

bells of the church. Beware of making the bride wait too long!"

The friendly scribe stood before the young man again, and minutely

examined his dress with the eye of a connoisseur. He drew a buckle a

little tighter here, he altered a plait of his mantle there, raised a

feather of his cap higher, and having satisfied himself that nothing

was wanting to adorn the person of the bridegroom, he thought his tall,

manly figure, his fine head, and animated eye, were worthy the love of

his pretty cousin. "I declare," said he, "you look as if you were

created especially for a bridegroom. I would like Marie to see you now;

poor girl, she would certainly be troubled with giddiness for a week!

But come, come; I feel proud in being your companion upon this

occasion, though I shall be fourteen days later in Ulm than I ought to

be."

Albert blushed,--his heart beat quicker,--when he left the room. Joy,

expectation, the fulfilment of year-long wishes assailed his feelings,

as he followed his friend Dieterich through the galleries to the

apartment where the assembled company awaited his arrival. The doors

opened,--and Bertha stood in all the brilliancy of her beauty,

surrounded by many women and maidens, whom the Duke had invited to form

the nuptial procession.

When she perceived her lover enter the room, and met his glance, modest

confusion spread a deep blush over her features, as she returned his

salutation. The intoxicating joy of this moment would have led Albert

to impress a morning salute of love upon her lips, but he was

restrained by the strict manners of the times upon such occasions to

observe a serious distant demeanour. A bride, according to etiquette,

was not permitted to touch the hand of the bridegroom before the priest

had joined them together, nor were they allowed to approach each other

within six paces. To look even exclusively at her future husband before

the ceremony was performed was deemed indecorous. She observed,

therefore, the precise rule of remaining with cast-down looks, modest

and demure, with her hands crossed before her. Such were the customs of

the olden times of the country.

To any other person in a similar situation, the position in which she

stood might have imparted to the beholder a stiff and awkward

appearance; but as nature endows her choicest daughters under all

circumstances, whether in grief or joy, with a charm of interest which

attracts even the most superficial observer, so did Bertha, on the

present occasion, give to the restrained attitude of a bride in those

days, an ease and grace which elicited the admiration of the

surrounding spectators. The soft blush which rested on her features,

the smile playing about her delicate-formed mouth, the brilliancy of

her dark blue eyes, shooting their rays through the dark long

eyelashes, like the rising sun dispersing the morning mist, formed a

picture of unaffected loveliness, fit for the pencil of the artist.

The Duke entered the room, leading the knight of Lichtenstein by the

hand. His eye rapidly passed through the circle of ladies, and he

decidedly gave to Bertha the palm of beauty. "Sturmfeder," said he,

taking him aside, "this day rewards you for many services. Do you

recollect that night, when you first visited me in the cavern, and did

not know who I was? Hans, the fifer, gave us a toast, 'the lady of

Lichtenstein, long may she bloom for you!' she is yours now, and what

is not less true, the toast you gave is also fulfilled, for we are

again established in the castle of our fathers."

"May your grace enjoy your prosperity as long as I hope to be happy by

the side of Bertha. But I am indebted to your interference and kindness

for this day, for without it her father perhaps----"

"Honour for honour!" interrupted Ulerich: "you stood by us faithfully

when we first set out to reconquer our country, and therefore we have

assisted you in gaining possession of your best wishes. We will

represent your father this day; and as such you will not refuse us to

kiss your beautiful wife on the forehead after church."

Albert thought of that night when he was concealed behind the gate of

Lichtenstein, and overheard the Duke's conversation with his love. It

ended by his promise to remind her of his claim to a salute on this

day, to which she would not consent then. "Where you please," he

replied, "on her lips, if you prefer it, my Lord Duke; you have long

since merited it by your generous intercession."

"Who is to accompany you to the altar?" said the Duke.

"Maxx Stumpf and the Ulmer scribe, a cousin of Lichtenstein."

"What, that smart little fellow, whose head my chancellor wanted to

have off? Well, then, on your left you'll be supported by the most

elegant of men; and on your right by the bravest in all Swabia. I wish

you joy, young man; but take my advice, and lean to him on the right,

rather than to the other; for if you have him for a friend, you need

fear nothing in the world, even if you were as jealous as a Turk. But

here comes the right one," he added, as the knight entered the room;

"look how his broad sturdy figure shews among the crowd; and how

splendidly he has dressed himself! He wore that old faded green mantle

at our wedding with Sabina Lobesau, A.D. 1511."

"I don't understand much about dress," replied the brave knight of

Schweinsberg, catching the Duke's last words, "neither do I know much

about dancing, so you will excuse me; but if the bridegroom will break

a lance with me this evening in a tilt, I am his man!"

"So you want to break a couple of his ribs out of pure tenderness and

courtesy," said the Duke, laughing: "that's what I call a bridegroom's

companion of the right sort. But stop, Albert; I would advise you to

hold to your left-hand companion now, for the Ulmer will do you no

harm."

The folding doors were at this instant thrown open; when the persons

composing the Duke's court were seen stationed along the galleries.

Pages of honour led the procession, carrying long burning wax candles,

followed by a brilliant train of noble dames and maidens, who had been

invited to the ceremony. They were clad in rich stuffs, embroidered in

gold and silver, each carrying a large nosegay in one hand and a lemon

in the other. The bride was led between George von Hewen and Rheinhardt

von Gemmingen, followed by a numerous body of knights and nobles, with

Albert von Sturmfeder in the middle, having Maxx Stumpf on his right,

and the scribe to the Ulmer council, Dieterich von Kraft, on his left.

His whole bearing appeared to be animated by a spirit of elevated joy,

his eyes beamed with happiness, and his step was that of a conqueror.

His flowing hair, and the waving plumes of his cap, were conspicuously

prominent above the heads of those surrounding him. The crowd beheld

him as he passed with admiration, the men praising his tall, manly

figure and noble gait; and the young girls whispering to each other

their remarks upon his fine features and brilliant eyes.

The procession proceeded in this way from the gate of the castle to the

church, passing through a broad open space which separated them. The

close-packed heads of the worthy citizens of Stuttgardt were all on the

stretch to get a sight of the bride and bridegroom as they passed, who,

judging by the murmur of applause and admiration which followed them

into the church, were flattered by the reception they received.

Among the numerous spectators, a sprightly, plump countrywoman and her

daughter seemed particularly anxious to get a sight of the happy.

couple. The woman kept curtseying every moment, to the great amusement

of the surrounding citizens, who had only paid this attention to the

Duke and the bride. She kept up an earnest conversation with her

daughter at the same time, who, however, did not appear to heed much

what she said. Neither did she seem to be interested in the train of

females with their rich dresses, her anxiety being simply to get a

glimpse of the bride. As she approached, the young girl's cheeks

assumed a deeper red; her red bodice rose and sunk violently, her

beating heart appearing likely to break the silver chain with which it

was laced. She looked stedfastly at Bertha, and was apparently

surprised at the transcendant beauty of the bride, which caused her an

involuntary deep sigh. "That's her!" she cried, with peculiar emphasis,

hastily concealing her face behind her mother from the gaze of the

people about her, who looked astonished at her exclamation.

"Yes, that's her, Barbelle; she is wonderful pretty," whispered the

round matron to her daughter, and made a low curtsey; "but now look out

for the gentleman."

The girl did not appear to require that piece of advice, for her

attention had been long directed to the side whence he was to come. "He

comes, he comes!" she heard her neighbours say, "that's him in the

white vest and blue mantle, just before the Duke." She saw him; one

look only did she dare to cast at him; the blush on her cheek vanished;

she trembled, and a tear fell upon her red bodice. When he had passed,

she ventured to raise her head again, and look towards him; but it was

with an expression of countenance that appeared to indicate more than

mere admiration or curiosity.

The procession having by this time entered the church, the spectators

crowded to the doors to get in; and in a moment the place which they

had occupied was empty. The countrywoman, however, still remained

looking at the smart dressed townsfolks, in admiration of their brocade

caps, jackets embroidered in gold, and short petticoats. The sight of

so much finery awakened in her mind the desire of possessing a dress of

the same splendour and shew, only she thought she would not have it cut

so low about the neck and shoulders.

Upon turning round, she was startled to see her pretty child concealing

her blooming face under her hands. She could not conceive what had

happened to the girl; and taking her by both hands, and pulling them

down, she observed her weeping most bitterly: "What ails you,

Barbelle?" she said, somewhat angrily, but still not without interest,

"what makes you cry? did'nt you see him? you ought to be ashamed of

yourself! Who ever saw the like? I say, why do you cry?"

"I don't know, mother," she whispered, trying in vain to stop her

tears; "I have such a pain in my heart, I don't know why."

"Come, adone with it, I say! or we shall be too late in the church.

Hark! how they are playing and singing? Come along, or else I'll not

look at you again!" With these words she dragged the girl towards the

church. Barbelle followed; and covered her eyes with her white apron,

lest the townsfolk should laugh at her. But the deep sighs which she

was unable to suppress, made people think she was labouring under some

acute suffering. The sounds of the organ and chorus of voices ceased

just as they arrived at the entrance of the church. The round matron

was aware that the marriage ceremony was now to begin, and therefore

endeavoured to push her way through the crowd; but in vain, for as

often as she thought to squeeze her plump person into the body of the

church, she was sure to be pushed back again with abusive words.

"Come, mother," said the girl, "let's go home. We are poor people,

they'll not let us in; come away."

"What? the church is made for every one, poor or rich!" said her

mother, indignantly; "make a little room, if you please, we can't see

any thing!"

"What?" said the man, whom she addressed, turning to her his

well-tanned face, with an immense bushy beard, "what! away with you!

we'll not let any one pass. We are his most gracious highness's

lansquenet; and our captain has ordered us not to let one soul of you

go up to the holy altar. _Morbleu!_ I am sorry to swear in the church;

but I say, away with you!"

Staberl of Vienna, who was on the spot, interceded for the little girl,

but would not consent to her mother entering the church. "Come here, my

dear," he called her, "you can see very well here. There; now the

priest is putting the ring on her finger, and joins their hands. If you

will give me a kiss, I'll get you a better place;" and with these

words, without waiting for an answer, he stretched out his hand towards

Barbelle. She screamed aloud, and ran away, followed by her mother, who

vented imprecations on townsfolk in general, and the unmannerly

lansquenet.

CHAPTER XXXI.

At last I hold thee in my arms,

My best beloved, my own!

Bestowed on me from war's alarms,

Preserved for me alone.

L. UHLAND.

Duke Ulerich of Wuertemberg was fond of a good table, and when the glass

circulated freely in good society, he was not the first to give the

signal to break up. At the wedding feast of Bertha von Lichtenstein he

remained true to his habits. When the ceremony was finished in the

church, the procession returned to the castle much in the same form as

it entered, except that the bride and bridegroom walked hand in hand.

The company then separated, and wandered about the pleasure-garden of

the castle, where they amused themselves among the shrubberies and

artificial walks, some looking at the deer and roebucks in the

inclosures, others admiring the bears in the dry ditches. At twelve

o'clock the trumpets sounded to dinner, which was held in the

tournament-hall, a place large enough to entertain many hundred people.

This hall was the pride and ornament of Stuttgardt. It was full an

hundred paces long; one side of it, looking to the garden, was occupied

by numerous large windows, through which the cheerful rays of the sun,

piercing the many-coloured glass, illumined this immense apartment,

which, by its vaulted roof and numerous pillars, resembled more the

interior of a church than a place for festive joy. Galleries extended

round the three other sides, hung with rich tapestry, a space being

appropriated to the musicians and trumpeters, whilst spectators,

assembled to witness the princely feast, occupied the remainder. On

other occasions, such as when a tournament took place, these galleries

were set apart for the ladies and judges; when, instead of the clang of

drinking utensils, the hall resounded with the applauses of the

spectators, the heavy blows of swords, the cracking of lances, the

whizzing of spears, amidst the laughter and cries of the combatants.

On this day a display of beautiful women and gallant men of all classes

had been invited to celebrate the nuptials of the Duke's friend and

favourite. They were seated around tables which groaned under loads of

good cheer. The fiddlers in the galleries flourished their fiddlesticks

merrily; the cheeks of the trumpeters were swelled to the fullest

stretch; the drummers' sticks beat heavily on their skins; and the

spectators who were admitted in the other part of the galleries, joined

chorus with shouting and hallooing when the company drank a toast. At

the upper end of the room sat the Duke upon a throne, under a canopy.

His hat was pushed off his forehead, he looked around him with an air

of satisfaction, and did not spare the bottle. On his right, at the

side of the table, sat Bertha, who was no longer obliged to submit to

the ceremonious restraint of cast-down eyes, and keeping at a

respectable distance from the bridegroom. Her glance and the expression

of her features bespoke happiness. She looked at her husband, who sat

opposite to her, and she could scarcely convince herself her being

actually a wife was not all a dream, and that the name she had borne

eighteen years was changed to that of Sturmfeder. She smiled as often

as she regarded him, for it appeared to her that he had already assumed

the direction of her conduct. "He is my head," she said to herself,

playfully, "my lord, my master!"

And her thoughts were really verified, for Albert felt all the

importance and responsibility of his new position in society. It seemed

to him as if the young people already paid him more respect than

heretofore, and that the old knights treated him more upon an equality

since he had become the head of a family, and stood no longer alone in

the world. The notions in the good old times were somewhat different to

those in the present day respecting the marriage state, for the

designation of nobles and citizens was invariably supposed to include

that of wife and children, leaving the state of celibacy to monks

alone.

The knight of Lichtenstein, Maxx Stumpf von Schweinsberg, and the

chancellor, were seated near the Duke, and the scribe to the Council of

Ulm was not far from them, being allowed that honour in consequence of

his having been the companion of the bridegroom at the wedding. The

eyes of the men soon began to sparkle from the effects of the wine, and

the cheeks of the ladies to assume a deeper red, when the Duke gave a

signal to his headman, and the dinner was removed. The poor people were

not forgotten on this occasion; as was always the case on similar

rejoicings, the remains of the dinner were taken to the court yard of

the castle, and delivered over to them. Pastry and fruit were next

brought in, and the wine jugs were replenished by a better sort of the

generous liquor for the use of the men, whilst Spanish sweet wine was

served to the ladies in small silver cups. This was the moment when,

according to the customs of the time, presents were presented to the

new-married couple: large baskets were placed beside Bertha to receive

them, and when the fiddlers and other musicians had re-tuned their

instruments, and began a solemn march, a long brilliant procession

moved forward in the hall. Pages of honour led the train, carrying

embossed gold tankards and female ornaments of jewelry, as gifts from

the Duke to the happy couple.

"May these tankards," said Ulerich, addressing them, "filled with

generous liquor, circulate at the marriage feast of your children, and

remind you of a man whom both of you served with truth and fidelity in

his misfortune, of a Prince who in prosperity forgets not his faithful

friends."

Albert was astonished at the value of the presents. "Your Grace's

generosity overpowers us," he replied; "love and fidelity claim no

reward but the approval of conscience, else they would be too often the

price of venality."

"Yes, truly, unless they spring from a source unadulterated by the

alloy of all selfish motives, they are but pearls fit only to be thrown

to swine," replied the Duke, casting a look of reproof down the length

of the table. "We rejoice the more, therefore, to reward your

disinterested fidelity, when all seemed to be lost to us. But look,

your bride is in tears! I think I know their cause; they are produced

by the remembrance of our late painful fate, which I have now recalled

to her mind. But away with these tears; they are unpropitious to the

day of your wedding. With permission! of your husband," said he,

turning to Bertha, "I will now claim payment of an old debt."

Bertha blushed, and cast an anxious look at Albert, fearing the

repetition of a liberty which had once highly offended her. He,

however, well knew what the Duke meant, for the scene which he had

witnessed behind the door was still fresh in his recollection. Amused

with the idea of rallying the Duke and his wife upon the subject, he

said, "My lord Duke, my wife and I being now one body and one soul, she

has my permission to liquidate the debt which I know she owes you."

"Answered as a fine young fellow," returned Ulerich, goodnaturedly;

"and I have no doubt that many of our ladies here at table would have

no objection to require payment of a similar debt from your handsome

mouth; but my demand being addressed solely to the rosy lips of your

wife, it refers to her alone."

With these words, he rose and approached Bertha, who looked at her

husband in a state of confusion and agitation. "My lord Duke," she

said, in a low tone of voice, and holding her head away, "I meant it

only in joke--I beseech you!" But Ulerich would not be deterred from

his purpose, and wrung his debt with interest from her pretty mouth.

The knight of Lichtenstein during this scene looked angrily, first at

the Duke and then at his daughter, fearing his son-in-law might perhaps

take umbrage at the liberty, as Ulerich von Hutten had done in a

similar case. The chancellor appeared to enjoy a malicious pleasure

upon the occasion, at the expense, as he thought, of the young man's

feelings. "Hi! hi! hi! I'll empty my glass to your good health," said

he to him. "A pretty woman is an excellent petitioner in necessity; I

wish you prosperity, dear and most worthy sir;--hi! hi! hi! there is no

harm done in the presence of the husband."

"No doubt of it," replied Albert, calmly; "and so much the more

innocent because I was present when my wife promised his Grace this

proof of her gratitude. The Duke himself proposed to intercede for us

with her father to make me his son-in-law, stipulating for this reward

on the day of our nuptials."

The Duke started in surprise at these words, and Bertha blushed again,

when she thought of the scene which had occasioned the promise. Neither

of them, however, contradicted him, deeming it perhaps unseemly, or

rather impossible, to charge him with an untruth, or, what was more

likely, suspecting they had been overheard.

The Duke could not forbear asking him aside how he came to know the

circumstance. Albert acquainted him with it in a few words.

"You are a strange fellow," whispered the Duke, smiling; "what would

have been the consequence had I committed the trespass?"

"As I did not know you at that time," replied the other as softly, "I

should have run you through on the spot, and hung your body on the

nearest oak."

The Duke bit his lips and felt annoyed; but he took his friend's hand,

and said, "You would have been perfectly justified, and we should have

been justly carried off in our sins. But look, they are bringing more

offerings to the bride."

The attendants of the knights and nobles who had been invited to the

wedding, appeared, carrying all kinds of curious household utensils,

stuffs for wearing apparel, and such like. It being known in Stuttgardt

that the feast was given in honour of the Duke's favourite, an embassy

of burghers, worthy respectable men, dressed in black, with swords by

their sides, short hair and long beards, had been appointed to offer

their presents and congratulations upon the occasion. One carried an

embossed silver goblet, another a large jug of the same metal

ornamented with inlaid medallions and filled with wine. They first

approached the Duke in great respect and bowed, and then turned to

Albert von Sturmfeder.

The man who bore the goblet, having saluted the bridegroom with a

cheerful smile on his countenance, said:

May joy attend the wedded pair,

And bliss increasing be their share!

Accept this gift from Stuttgardt's town,

And length of days your union crown.

'Tis generous wine that cheers the soul,

So come, my comrade, fill the bowl.

The other burgher then filled the goblet with wine from the jug he

carried, and whilst his companion drank it out, pronounced:

A cask full stands before your door,

The best of Stuttgardt's wine in store;

And force of body, strength of soul,

Lie deep within the brimful bowl:

Then drain the cup and find them there,

So Stuttgard has obtained her prayer.

Having finished his draught, and replenished the goblet, he repeated

the following lines:

Be this your toast when you carouse,

"Long live the Duke and all his house."

Drain to the dregs, then, fill the wine,

"To Sturmfeder and Lichtenstein;"

And may we hope that, as you drink,

You will on Stuttgardt's burghers think.

Albert gave the men both his hands and thanked them for their

acceptable presents; Bertha saluted their wives, and the Duke also

received them graciously. They laid the silver jug and the goblet in

the basket along with the other gifts, retiring respectfully and with

solemn step out of the hall. But the burghers were not the only ones to

tender their congratulations and manifest their regard for the Duke, in

this marked attention to his favourite. Scarcely had they taken their

departure, when a disturbance was observed at the door where the

lansquenet were on guard, which attracted the notice of the Ulerich.

Men's voices were heard swearing and ordering the crowd to obedience to

their commands, among which were mingled the voices of women, and one

in particular the loudest and most violent was recognized by some of

the company at the upper end of the table.

"I declare that is the voice of our Rosel," whispered old Lichtenstein

to his son-in-law: "what can her business be about?"

The Duke despatched one of his pages to find out the cause of the

noise, and received for answer that some countrywomen were trying to

force their way into the hall to present their gifts to the new married

couple in spite of the lansquenet, who would not permit them to enter,

only because they were common people. Ulerich gave orders immediately

to admit them, for, having been pleased with the conduct of the

burghers, he promised himself some amusement from the peasants. The

attendants having made room for them to pass, Albert, to his

astonishment, recognized the wife of the fifer of Hardt, and her pretty

daughter, led by her cousin, Mrs. Rosel.

When he was passing from the castle to the church, he thought he

recognised the lovely features of the girl of Hardt among the crowd;

but more important considerations having engrossed his whole attention,

this fleeting apparition was obliterated from his mind. He acquainted

the company who the women were, and to whom they belonged. The girl

excited great interest, from her being the child of that man whose

marvellous actions in the service of the Duke had often been a subject

of mystery, and whose fidelity and assistance in time of need

contributed essentially to Ulerich's return to his country. The girl

had the fair hair, the open forehead, and much the same features of her

parent; but the sharp cunning eye, the bold and powerful bearing of the

father, were softened into a playful kindliness and natural gaiety

which shed a charm around the retiring modesty of his child. As such

Albert had known her, when he was in the fifer of Hardt's house, but

she now appeared disconcerted before so many persons of rank; it struck

him also that her countenance betrayed dejection and sorrow, feelings

he had not discovered before on her beautiful features.

Her mother, knowing what good manners were, courtesied all the way up

from the entrance door till she arrived at the Duke's chair. The blush

of anger still rested upon the wan cheeks of Mrs. Rosel, who felt

herself highly aggrieved and insulted by the lansquenet, namely by the

Magdeburger and Casper Staberl, who had called her an old withered

stick. Before she could compose herself, and present the family of her

brother in respectful form to her master, the fifer's wife had already

taken the hem of the Duke's mantle and pressed it to her lips. "Good

day, my Lord Duke," she said, with deep reverence, "how are you since

you have been in Stuttgardt? my husband sends you his compliments. But

we don't come to the Duke, no, it is to the knight there," she added,

as if recollecting herself, pointing to Albert; "we have brought a

wedding present for his wife. There she sits, Barbelle, as large as

life."

Mrs. Rosel, confounded at the unceremonious conduct of her

sister-in-law before such an august audience, checked her loquacity by

saying, "I most humbly beg pardon of your grace, for having brought

these people here,--they are the wife and daughter of the fifer of

Hardt; pray do not take it ill, your highness, the woman means well, I

assure you."

The Duke was more amused with the excuses of Mrs. Rosel than with the

blunt language of her sister. "How is your husband?" said he to the

countrywoman, "will he visit us soon? why did he not come with you?"

"He has his reasons, sir," she replied; "if war breaks out, he'll

certainly not stay at home, for then he may be of some use; but in

peaceable times, why he thinks it is not becoming to eat cherries with

great folks."

The naivete of the plump matron almost drove Mrs. Rosel to desperation:

she pulled her by the petticoat, and by the long tails of hair, but to

no purpose. The wife of the fifer went on talking, to the great

amusement of the Duke and his guests, whose irresistible laughter,

which her answers elicited, appeared only to increase her happiness and

good humour. Barbelle in the meantime, playing with the handle of a

little basket she held in her hand, scarcely ventured occasionally to

raise her eyes to look at that face which she had beheld with such

tender sympathy when she nursed Albert during the long period of his

fever. The impression which those days had left on her mind still

remained in all its vigour, and the sight of him who had unawares made

an inroad into the recesses of her heart, made her fearful of meeting

his eye. She heard him say to his wife, "That is the kind girl who

nursed me when I lay ill in her father's house, and who conducted me

part of the way to Lichtenstein."

Bertha turned to her, and took her hand with great kindness. The girl

trembled, and her cheeks assumed a deep blush. She opened her little

basket, and presented a piece of beautiful linen, with a few bundles of

flax, as fine and soft as silk. She attempted in vain to speak, but

kissing the hand of the young bride, a tear fell upon her nuptial ring.

"Eh, Barbelle!" scolded Mrs. Rosel, "don't be so timid and nervous.

Gracious young lady,--I would say gracious madame,--have compassion on

her; she comes but seldom into the presence of quality folks. There is

no one so good who has not two dispositions, says the proverb; the girl

can be otherwise as merry and cheerful as larks in spring."

"I thank you, Barbelle," said Bertha: "your linen is very acceptable

and very fine. Did you spin it yourself?"

The girl smiled through her tears, and nodded a yes! to speak at that

moment appeared to her impossible. The Duke liberated her from this

embarrassment only to place her in another still greater. "The fifer of

Hardt has truly a very pretty child," he cried, and beckoned to her to

approach nearer, "well grown and lovely to behold! only look,

chancellor, how well the red bodice and short petticoat become her.

Could not we, Ambrosius Bolland, issue an edict for all the beauties in

Stuttgardt to adopt this neat dress?"

The chancellor's countenance became distorted into a hideous smile: he

examined the blushing maiden from head to foot with his little green

eyes; and said, "Certainly, a very good reason could be given, by which

an ell might be spared in the length of petticoats, for, as your grace

a few years back ordered the weights and measures to be reduced, you

have also the right, by all the rules of logic, to shorten the dress of

females. But nothing would be gained by it, for--hi! hi! hi! you would

see that what was cut off from the bottom, our beauties would be

obliged to add above. And who knows whether the ladies would willingly

agree to that? They belong to the genus of peacocks, who, you know,

don't like to shew their legs."

"You are right, Ambrosius;" the Duke laughed; "nothing escapes a

learned man! But tell me, my dear, have you got a sweetheart?"

"Ah! what? your grace!" interrupted the round matron, sharply. "Who

would talk about such like things to a child! She is a very good girl,

your highness."

The Duke paid no attention to this remark; he enjoyed the embarrassment

which was visibly manifest in the chaste features of the innocent girl,

who sighed softly, and, playing with the ends of the coloured ribands

of her plaited hair, sent an involuntary look to Albert, which seemed

to claim his kind offices in her present perplexity, and then suddenly

cast her eyes down to the ground. The Duke, alive to every thing that

was passing, laughed aloud, in which he was joined by the rest of the

men. "Young woman," he said to Bertha, "you may now with justice take

part in the jealousy of your husband; if you had seen what I just saw,

you might imagine and interpret all kind of things."

Bertha smiled, and, sympathising with Barbelle in her embarrassment,

felt how painful the taunts of the men must be to her. Whispering to

old Rosel, she told her to take the mother and daughter away. The

Duke's sharp eye remarked this also, which his merry mood attributed to

jealousy on the part of Bertha. She however unclasped a beautiful

cross, set in gold and red stones, which she wore on her neck, attached

to a chain, and presenting it to the astonished girl, said, "I thank

you with all my heart, my dear Barbelle, for your kindness to my

husband; remember me to your father, and come often to us here and in

Lichtenstein. What say you, would you like to be in my service? I would

endeavour to make you happy, and you would live with your aunt Rosel."

The girl was evidently perplexed at this unexpected proposal. She

appeared to combat her feelings, and an assent to it seemed to be

struggling through an innocent smile on her countenance, only to be

withdrawn again by some other contending feeling. "I thank you very

much, gracious lady," she at last uttered, and kissed Bertha's hand,

"but I must stay at home; my mother is getting old and wants my

assistance. May the Lord, with all his saints, watch over you, and the

holy Virgin be gracious to you! May you live in health and be happy

with your husband; he is a good, kind gentleman!" Bending down again to

kiss Bertha's hand, she then withdrew with her mother and aunt.

"Hearken," called the Duke after them, "if your mother ever consents to

give you a husband, bring him to me, and I'll fit you out, my pretty

fifer's child!"

By this time it was four o'clock, and the Duke rising from table was

the signal for the spectators to quit the galleries, which were

immediately furnished with cushions and carpets, and arranged for the

reception of the ladies. The tables were removed from the body of the

hall, when lances, swords, shields, helmets, and the whole apparatus

for tilting were brought in, converting this spacious apartment, which

had been but a moment before the scene of festive joy, into a place for

the exercise of manly games.