CHAPTER I.
HERITZBURG.
I never saw anything more remarkable than the change which the deathof my lady's uncle, Count Tilly, in the spring of 1632, worked atHeritzburg. Until the day when that news reached us, we went on in ourquiet corner as if there were no war. We heard, and some of usbelieved, that the Palatine Elector, a good Calvinist like ourselves,had made himself King of Bohemia in the Emperor's teeth; and shortlyafterwards--which we were much more ready to believe--that he wasfooting it among the Dutchmen. We heard that the King of Denmark hadtaken up his cause, but taken little by the motion; and then that theKing of Sweden had made it his own. But these things affected uslittle: they were like the pattering of the storm to a man hugginghimself by the fireside. Through all we lay snug and warm, and keptChristmas and drank the Emperor's health. Even the great sack ofMagdeburg, which was such an event as the world, I believe, will neversee again, moved us less to fear than to pity; though the city liessomething less than fifty leagues northeast of us. The reason of thisI am going to tell you.
Our town stands, as all men know, in a nook of the Thuringian Forest,facing south and west towards Hesse, of which my Lady Rotha, Countessof Heritzburg, holds it, though all the land about is Saxon, belongingeither to Coburg, or Weimar, or Altenburg, or the upper Duchy. On thenorth and east the forest rises in rolling black ridges, with a greycrag shooting up spire-like here and there; so that from this quarterit was not wonderful that no sound of war reached us. Toward the southand west, where is the mouth of the valley, and whither our peoplepoint when they talk of the world, a spur of the mountain runs down oneither side to the Werra, which used to be crossed at this point by awooden bridge. But this bridge was swept away by floods in the winterof 1624, and never repaired as long as the war lasted. Henceforth tocome to Heritzburg travellers had to cross in old Joachim's boat, orif the river was very low, tuck up and take the chances. Unless theycame by forest paths over the mountains.
Such a position favoured peace. Our friends could not easily troubleus; our allies were under no temptation to quarter troops upon us. Forour enemies, we feared them even less. Against them we had a ramparthigher than the mountains and wider than the Werra, in the name ofTilly. In those days the name of the great Walloon, victor in thirtyfights, was a word to conjure with from the Tyrol to the Elbe. Mothersused it to scare their children, priests to blast their foes. Hiscourage, his cruelty, and his zeal for the Roman Catholic Churchcombined to make him the terror of the Protestants, while his strangepersonality and mis-shapen form gave rise to a thousand legends, whichmen still tell by the fireside.
I think I see him now--as I did see him thrice in his lifetime--ameagre dwarfish man with a long face like a horse's face, and largewhiskers. He dressed always in green satin, and wore a smallhigh-peaked hat on his huge wrinkled forehead. A red feather droopedfrom it, and reached to his waist. At first sight one took him for anatural; for one of those strange monstrosities which princes keep tomake them sport; but a single glance from his eyes sent simple men totheir prayers, and cowed alike plain burgher and wild Croat. Few lovedhim, all feared him. I have heard it said that he had no shadow, but Ican testify of my own knowledge and not merely for the honour of thefamily that this was false.
He was brother to my lady's mother, the Countess Juliana. At the timeof the match my late lord was thought to have disparaged his blood bymating with a Flemish lady of no more than gentle family. But as CountTilly rose in the world first to be commander of the Bavarian armiesand later to be Generalissimo of the forces of the Empire and a knightof the Golden Fleece, we heard less and less of this. The sneer lostits force until we became glad, Calvinists though we were, to liesecure under his shadow; and even felt a shamed pride in his prowess.
When my lord died, early in the war, leaving the county of Heritzburgto his only child, the protection we derived in this way grew more andmore valuable. We of Heritzburg, and we only, lost nothing by the war,except a parcel of idle fellows, of whom more hereafter. Our cows camelowing to their stalls, our corn full weight to the granary. We sleptmore safely under the distaff than others under the sword; and allbecause my lady had the right to wear among her sixteen quarteringsthe coat of Tilly.
Some I know, but only since his death, have cried shame on us foraccepting his protection. They profess to think that we should haveshut our gates on the Butcher of Magdeburg, and bidden him do hisworst. They say that the spirit of the old Protestants is dead withinus, and that it is no wonder the cause lies languishing and Swedesalone fight single-eyed. But those who say these things have seldom, Inotice, corn or cows: and moreover, as I have hinted, they kept a verystill tongue while Tilly lived.
There is our late Burgomaster, Hofman, for instance, he is given totalking after that fashion; and, it is true, he has plenty, though notso much since my lady fined him. But I well remember the last timeTilly visited us. It was after the fall of Magdeburg, and there was ashadow on his grim countenance, which men said never left it againuntil the day when the cannon-shot struck him in the ford of the Lech,and they carried him to Ingolstadt to die. As he rode under the archby the Red Hart people looked strangely at him--for it was difficultto forget what he had done--as if, but for the Croats in the campacross the river, they would have torn him from his horse. But who, Ipray you, so polite that day as Master Hofman? Who but he was first tohold the stirrup and cry, Hail? It was 'My Lord Count' this, and 'MyLord Count' that, until the door closed on the crooked little figureand the great gold spurs. And then it was the same with the captain ofthe escort. Faugh! I grow sick when I think of such men, and know thatthey were the first to turn round and make trouble when the time came,and the old grey wolf was dead. For my part I have always been mylady's man since I came out of the forest to serve her. It was enoughfor me that the Count was her guest and of her kin. But for flatteringhim and putting myself forward to do him honour, I left that to theHofmans.
However, the gloom we saw on Tilly's face proved truly to be theshadow of coming misfortune; for three weeks after he left us, wasfought the great battle of Breitenfeld. Men say that the energy anddecision he had shown all his life forsook him there; that hehesitated and suffered himself to be led by others; and that so it wasfrom the day of Magdeburg to his death. This may be true, I think, forhe had the blood of women and children on his head; or it may be thatat last he met a foeman worthy of his steel. But in either case thenews of the Swede's victory rang through North Germany like a trumpetcall. It broke with startling abruptness the spell of victory whichhad hitherto--for thirteen long years--graced the Emperor's flag andthe Roman Church. In Hesse, to the west of us, where the LandgraveWilliam had been the first of all German Princes to throw in his lotwith the Swedes and defy the Emperor, it awoke such a shout ofjubilation and vengeance as crossed even the Werra; while from theSaxon lands to the east of us, which this victory saved fromspoliation, and punishment, came an answering cry of thankfulness andjoy. Even in Heritzburg it stirred our blood. It roused new thoughtsand new ambitions. We were Protestants; we were of the north. Thosewho had fought and won were our brethren.
And this was right. Nor for a time did I see anything wrong or anysign of mischief brewing; though tongues in the town wagged morefreely, as the cloud of war rolled ever southward and away from us.But six months later the news of Count Tilly's death reached us. Then,or it might be a fortnight afterwards--so long I think respect for mylady's loss and the new hatchment restrained the good-for-naughts--thetrouble began. How it arose, and what shape it took, and how I cameathwart it, I am going to tell you without further preface.
It was about the third Monday in May of that year, 1632. A broken lockin one of the rooms at the castle had baffled the skill of our smith,and about nightfall, thinking to take a cup of beer at the Red Hart onmy way back, I went down to Peter the locksmith's in the town. Hisforge stands in the winding lane, which joins the High Street at theRed Hart, after running half round the town inside
the wall; so thatone errand was a fair excuse for the other. When I had given him hisorder and come out again, I found that what with the darkness of thelane and the blaze of his fire which had got into my eyes, I could notsee a yard before me. A little fine rain was falling with a chillyeast wind, and the town seemed dead. The pavement felt greasy underfoot, and gave out a rank smell. However, I thought of the cheerykitchen at the Red Hart and stumbled along as fast as I could, untilturning a corner I came in sight of the lanthorn which hangs over theentrance to the lane.
I saw it, but short of it, something took and held my eye: a warmstream of light, which shone across the path, and fell brightly on therough surface of the town-wall. It came from a small window on myleft. I had to pass close beside this window, and out of curiosity Ilooked in. What I saw was so surprising that I stopped to look again.
The room inside was low and small and bare, with an earthen floor andno fireplace. On a ragged pallet in one corner lay an elderly man, towhose wasted face and pallid cheeks a long white moustache, whichstrayed over the coverlet, gave an air of incongruous fierceness. Hisbright eyes were fixed on the door as if he listened. A child, threeor four years old, sat on the floor beside him, playing with a yellowcat.
It was neither of these figures, however, which held my gaze, but thatof a young girl who knelt on the floor near the head of the bed. Alittle crucifix stood propped against the wall before her, and she hada string of beads in her hands. Her face was turned from me, but Ifelt that her lips moved. I had never seen a Romanist at prayerbefore, and I lingered a moment, thinking in the first place that shewould have done better had she swung the shutter against the window;and in the next, that with her dark hair hanging about her neck andher head bent devoutly, she looked so weak and fragile that thestoutest Protestant could not have found it in his heart to harm her.
Suddenly a noise, which dully reached me where I stood outside thecasement, caused her to start in alarm, and turn her head. At the samemoment the cat sprang away affrighted, and the man on the bed stirredand tried to rise. This breaking the spell, I stole quietly away andwent round the corner to the door of the inn.
Though I had never considered the girl closely before, I knew who shewas. Some eight months earlier, while Tilly, hard pressed by the Kingof Sweden, still stood at bay, keeping down Saxony with one hand, andHesse with the other, the man on the pallet, Stephen Wort, a sergeantof jagers, had been wounded in a skirmish beyond the river. Why Tilly,who was used to seeing men die round him like flies in winter, gave asecond thought to this man more than to others, I cannot say. But forsome reason, when he visited us before Breitenfeld, he brought thewounded sergeant in his train, and when he went left him at the inn.Some said that the man had saved his life, others that the two wereborn on the same day and shared the same horoscope. More probablyTilly knew nothing of the man, and the captain of the escort was theactive party. I imagine he had a kindness for Wort, and knowing thatoutside our little valley a wounded man of Tilly's army would find asshort shrift as a hamstrung wolf, took occasion to leave him with us.
I thought of all this as I stood fumbling about the door for the greatbell. The times were such that even inns shut their doors at night,and I had to wait and blow on my fingers--for no wind is colder than aMay wind--until I was admitted. Inside, however, the blazing fire andcheerful kitchen with its show of gleaming pewter, and its greatpolished settles winking solemnly in the heat, made amends for all. Iforgot the wounded man and his daughter and the fog outside. Therewere eight or nine men present, among them Hofman, who was thenBurgomaster, Dietz, the town minister, and Klink our host.
They were people I met every day, and sometimes more than once a day,and they greeted me with a silent nod. The lad who waited brought me acup of beer, and I said that the night was cold for the time of year.Some one assented, but the company in general sat silent, sagelysucking their lips, or exchanging glances which seemed to indicate asecret understanding.
I was not slow to see that this had to do with me and that my entrancehad cut short some jest or story. I waited patiently to learn what itwas, and presently I was enlightened. After a few minutes Klink thehost rose from his seat. First looking from one to another of hisneighbours, as if to assure himself of their sympathy, he stolequietly across the kitchen to a door which stood in one corner. Herehe paused a moment listening, and then on a sudden struck the door acouple of blows, which made the pewters ring again.
'Hi! Within there!' he cried in his great voice. Are you packing? Areyou packing, wench? Because out you go to-morrow, pack or no pack! Outyou go, do you hear?'
He stood a moment waiting for an answer, but seemed to get none; onwhich he came back to his seat, and chuckling fatly to himself, lookedround on his neighbours for applause. One winked and another rubbedhis calves. The greater number eyed the fire with a sly smile. For mypart I was slow of apprehension. I did not understand but waited tohear more.
For five minutes we all sat silent, sucking our lips. Then Klink roseagain with a knowing look, and crossed the kitchen on tiptoe with thesame parade of caution as before. Bang!' He struck the door until itrattled on its hinges.
'Hi! You there!' he thundered. 'Do you hear, you jade? Are youpacking? Are you packing, I say? Because pack or no pack, to-morrowyou go! I am a man of my word.'
He did not wait this time for an answer, but came back to us with aself-satisfied grin on his face. He drank some beer--he was a bigponderous man with a red face and small pig's eyes--and pointed overhis shoulders with the cup. 'Eh?' he said, raising his eye-brows.
'Good!' a man growled who sat opposite to him.
'Quite right!' said a second in the same tone. 'Popish baggage!'
Hofman said nothing, but nodded, with a sly glance at me. Dietz theMinister nodded curtly also, and looked hard at the fire. The restlaughed.
For my part I felt very little like laughing. When I considered thatthis clumsy jest was being played at the expense of the poor girl,whom I had seen at her prayers, and that likely enough it was beingplayed for the tenth time--when I reflected that these heavy fellowswere sitting at their ease by this great fire watching the logs blazeand the ruddy light flicker up the chimney, while she sat in cold anddiscomfort, fearing every sound and trembling at every whisper, Icould have found it in my heart to get up and say what I thought ofit. And my speech would have astonished them. But I remembered, intime, that least said is soonest mended, and that after all wordsbreak no bones, and I did no more than sniff and shrug my shoulders.
Klink, however, chose to take offence in his stupid fashion. 'Eh?' hesaid. 'You are of another mind, Master Schwartz?'
'What is the good of talking like that,' I said, 'when you do not meanit?'
He puffed himself out, and after staring at me for a time, answeredslowly: 'But what if I do mean it, Master Steward? What if I do meanit?'
'You don't,' I said. 'The man pays his way.'
I thought to end the matter with that. I soon found that it was not tobe shelved so easily. For a moment indeed no one answered me. We are aslow speaking race, and love to have time to think. A minute had notelapsed, however, before one of the men who had spoken earlier took upthe cudgels. 'Ay, he pays his way,' he said, thrusting his headforward. 'He pays his way, master; but how? Tell me that.'
I did not answer him.
'Out of the peasant's pocket!' the fellow replied slowly. 'Out of theplunder and booty of Magdeburg. With blood-money, master.'
'I ask no more than to meet one of his kind in the fields,' the mansitting next him, who had also spoken before, chimed in. 'With no onelooking on, master. There would be one less wolf in the world then, Iwill answer for that. He pays his way? Oh, yes, he pays it here.'
I thought a shrug of the shoulders a sufficient answer. These twobelonged to the company my lady had raised in the preceding year toserve with the Landgrave according to her tenure. They had come backto the town a week before this with money to spend; some people sayingthat they had deserted, and some that they had
returned to raisevolunteers. Either way I was not surprised to find them a little bitabove themselves; for foreign service spoils the best, and these hadnever been anything but loiterers and vagrants, whom it angered me tosee on a bench cheek by jowl with the Burgomaster. I thought to treatthem with silent contempt, but I soon found that they did not standalone.
The Minister was the first to come to their support. 'You forget thatthese people are Papists, Master Schwartz. Rank Roman Papists,' hesaid.
'So was Tilly!' I retorted, stung to anger. 'Yet you managed to dowith him.'
'That was different,' he answered sourly; but he winced.
Then Hofman began on me. 'You see, Master Steward,' he said slowly,'we are a Protestant town--we are a Protestant town. And it illbeseems us--it ill beseems us to harbour Papists. I have thought overthat a long while. And now I think it is time to rid ourselves ofthem--to abate the nuisance in fact. You see we are a Protestant town,Master Schwartz. You forget that.'
'Then were we not a Protestant town,' I cried, jumping up in a rage,and forgetting all my discretion, 'when we entertained Count Tilly?When you held his stirrup, Burgomaster? and you, Master Dietz,uncovered to him? Were not these people Papists when they came here,and when you received them? But I will tell you what it is,' Icontinued, looking round scornfully, and giving my anger vent, forsuch meanness disgusted me. 'When there was a Bavarian army across theriver, and you could get anything out of Tilly, you were ready tooblige him, and clean his boots. You could take in Romanists then, butnow that he is dead and your side is uppermost, you grow scrupulous,Pah! I am ashamed of you! You are only fit to bully children andgirls, and such like!' and I turned away to take up my iron-shodstaff.
They were all very red in the face by this time, and the two soldierswere on their feet. But the Burgomaster restrained them. 'Fine words!'he said, puffing out his cheeks--'fine words! Dare say the girl canhear him. But let him be, let him be--let him have his say!'
'There is some else will have a say in the matter, Master Hofman!' Iretorted warmly, as I turned to the door, 'and that is my lady. Iwould advise you to think twice before you act. That is all!'
'Hoop-de-doo-dem-doo!' cried one in derision, and others echoed it.But I did not stay to hear; I turned a deaf ear to the uproar, whereinall seemed to be crying after me at once, and shrugging my shoulders Iopened the door and went out.
The sudden change from the warm noisy kitchen to the cold night airsobered me in a moment. As I climbed the dark slippery street whichrises to the foot of the castle steps, I began to wish that I had letthe matter be. After all, what call had I to interfere, and make badblood between myself and my neighbours? It was no business of mine.The three were Romanists. Doubtless the man had robbed and hectored inhis time, and while his hand was strong; and now he suffered as othershad suffered.
It was ten chances to one the Burgomaster would carry the matter to mylady in some shape or other, and the minister would back him up, and Ishould be reprimanded; or if the Countess saw with my eyes, and sentthem off with a flea in their ears, then we should have all the rabbleof the town who were at Klink's beck and call, going up and downmaking mischief, and crying, 'No Popery!' Either way I foresawtrouble, and wished that I had let the matter be, or better still hadkept away that night from the Red Hart.
But then on a sudden there rose before me, as plainly as if I hadstill been looking through the window, a vision of the half-lit roomlooking on the lane, with the sick man on the pallet, and the slenderfigure kneeling beside the bed. I saw the cat leap, saw again thegirl's frightened gesture as she turned towards the door, and Igrew almost as hot as I had been in the kitchen. 'The cowards!' Imuttered--'the cowards! But I will be beforehand with them. I will goto my lady early and tell her all.'
You see I had my misgivings, but I little thought what that eveningwas really to bring forth, or that I had done that in the Red Hartkitchen which would alter all my life, and all my lady's life; andspreading still, as a little crack in ice will spread from bank tobank, would leave scarce a man in Heritzburg unchanged, and scarce awoman's fate untouched.
My Lady Rotha: A Romance Page 2
