'If the young man his new gown has torn,The old woman can mend it fit to be worn.'"
'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 Würtemberg from his ancestors. Habit and inclination had bound him to the sovereigns who had presided over Würtemberg 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 Würtemberg.
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 Cæsar 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 Würtemberg 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 Tübingen compact?"
"Tübingen!" cried the Duke with a terrible voice, his eyes flashing the fire of indignation; "Tübingen! 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 Würtemberg 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 Tübingen 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, Tübingen, and Göppingen, 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 Würtemberg? 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 Würtembergers! 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 Würtemberg, 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 Würtemberg. 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 Würtemberg 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 Würtemberg. 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 Cæsar'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 Würtemberg tore himself away, and went to hear the oath of allegiance administered.
No furnace ever blazed so bright,Nor glow'd the burning brandWith half so powerful a light,As love of fatherland.An old popular Song.
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 Würtemberg, 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 Würtemberg, 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, Göppingen, and Tübingen were still in the hands of the League, having powerful garrisons in each. Dieterich Spät, 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 Nördlingen 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 Würtemberg 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 Würtemberg? 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 betweenmayandwilltake 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 Tübingen. 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.
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.
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 Würtemberg 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: