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 THE WINTER QUEEN
 
 " Qui salt si le reve d'un poete n'est pas aussi lucide que 1'observa- 
 tion ? Et si representer les etres comme ils f urent dans sa vision, 
 n'est pas plus sure faQon de fixer 1'expression fugace, ou parfois se 
 revele le temps d'un eclair 1'intimite d'une ame ? 
 
 " Pourquoi n'appartiendraient-ils pas au roman^ les personnages 
 qui appartiennent a 1'histoire, roman aussi ? " 
 
 CATDLLE MEND^S.
 
 "&? 
 
 ir i"-ti
 
 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 BEING THE UNHAPPY HISTORY OF 
 
 ELIZABETH STUART 
 
 ELECTRESS PALATINE, QUEEN OF 
 BOHEMIA 
 
 A ROMANCE 
 
 BY 
 
 MARIE HAY 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'A GERMAN POMPADOUR 1 
 
 ' DIANNK DE POITIERS ' AND ' AN 
 
 UNREQUITED LOYALTY' 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
 1910
 
 Printed by BALLANTYNB, HANSON &* Co. 
 At the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh
 
 TO 
 
 LEILA AND HERBERT 
 
 IN MEMORY OF OUE WANDERINGS IN 
 
 GERMANY, IN BOHEMIA, IN HOLLAND, 
 
 AND IN ENGLAND, WHERE WE SOUGHT 
 
 THROUGH THE RECORDS OF 
 
 THE SORROWFUL HISTORY OF 
 
 HER WELL-BELOVED MAJESTY, 
 
 ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 BECAUSE the Stuart charm, working through 
 the long-dead years, enchained me; and then, 
 because personality is deathless, I fell into a true 
 love for her Majesty of Bohemia. But how it began ? 
 Well a strange thing, and yet, if personality is death- 
 less, not so strange. Wandering through Bohemia, curious 
 to see and perchance to learn, we came to Prague late at 
 night and weary. The next morning I awoke with a 
 sentence ringing in my ears : " The Winter Queen a 
 sorry history but so brave the Winter Queen ! " I 
 marvelled, for Prague had held no message for me before, 
 yet had I always felt I needs must journey back to the 
 Czechish city ; and now this sentence, " The Winter 
 Queen," haunted me, and seemed a command to me, 
 who, then, knew little of Elizabeth Stuart. Perhaps her 
 spirit, hovering over Bohemia, had come to order me to tell 
 of her sad life. Had some vestige of her charm lingered 
 in Prague ? I know not ; yet right humbly I set myself 
 to learn the history of my " well-beloved, sweet, undaunted 
 lady," learned it with a new thought of the bravery of 
 cheerfulness through failure and sorrow. And here I 
 have written of what I found in many pilgrimages through 
 Germany, Bohemia, Holland, and our own dear England. 
 There has been no lack of writings to teach me her 
 Majesty's story ; there have been both printed books and 
 a mass of MS. letters ; and though I have cast my history 
 in the form of a romance, I here crave my readers' kind- 
 ness to believe that I have given as much study to my 
 subject as though I had written a biography. And, because 
 I know out of my own curiosity in such matters, how 
 when we read, we desire to know if this or that is actual 
 
 vil
 
 viii PREFACE 
 
 fact or but the romancer's invention, I must here affirm 
 that I have the authority of ancient chronicles, of the 
 records of studious searchers through many archives, or 
 of the voice of legend to confirm the details, scenes, and 
 characters of this romance. Sometimes I have been 
 forced to tell of hideous things of sacrilege and blas- 
 phemy, and herein I have added nothing to the telling 
 of the contemporary chroniclers. 
 
 In the course of my wanderings it has been my good 
 fortune, by investigation to prove the truth of some 
 traditions. Thus I found a few old men at Amberg who 
 remembered, as children, being taken to see the horse 
 which King Friedrich rode on his flight from Rothen- 
 burg to Amberg. In 1620 the citizens had caused poor 
 " Hurry " to be stuffed and set up in their Rathaus, and 
 he remained there till 1835, but then, being badly moth- 
 eaten, he was destroyed. In the Munich " Schatzkammer " 
 I found the Garter which King Friedrich lost at the 
 Strahow Gate after the battle of the White Mountain. 
 The diamond letters of the " Honi soit qui mal y pense " 
 had evidently been moved closer together, in order to 
 adjust the Garter to a thin leg, and the marks, where 
 the buckle was fastened, are clearly seen. After months 
 of searching I have been able to establish the fact that 
 none know, that even local tradition in Sedan does not 
 whisper, where King Friedrich of Bohemia is buried. 
 
 There remains to me a duty which is a pleasant task : 
 to own my thanks to those whose courtesy has helped 
 me in my search to my Lord Earl of Craven, who gave 
 me leave to study the Craven papers ; to the authorities 
 of the Royal Library at Munich, where I have read many 
 rare books and collections of MS. letters of the seven- 
 teenth century ; to the librarian of the Bohemian Museum 
 at Prague ; and to the librarian of the University Library 
 at Heidelberg. 
 
 MARIE HAY.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE ... 1 
 
 II. HEIDELBERG 27 
 
 III. QUIET DAYS 39 
 
 IV. THE FIRST MESH is SPUN .... 68 
 V. WARNING 81 
 
 VI. THE WEB 95 
 
 VII. THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE . . . .111 
 
 VIII. DEPARTURE 130 
 
 IX. HUMILIATION 150 
 
 X. KING FRIEDRICH'S RIDE 165 
 
 XI. PRAGUE 175 
 
 XII. THE KING'S VISION 203 
 
 XIII. THE WHITE MOUNTAIN . . . . .222 
 
 XIV. FLIGHT 234 
 
 XV. HOLLAND .252 
 
 XVI. THE SUPPER IN THE WOOD . . . . 269 
 
 XVII. " As NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE " . 280 
 
 XVIII. THE HERO OF FLEURUS . .297 
 
 XIX. FAREWELL 316
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XX. " IF LOVE BE DEAD, WHY DOST THOU RISE, 
 
 O SUN?" . . . . . . 333 
 
 XXI. TIDINGS OF DESPAIR . . . .346 
 
 XXII. THE WINTER KING . . . . . .363 
 
 XXIII. D'ESPINAY 379 
 
 XXIV. HOME 403
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA, by MIEREVELT . . Frontispiece 
 EQUESTRIAN PICTURE, by VAN DER VENNE . . To face p. 54 
 DUKE CHRISTIAN OF BRUNSWICK, by MIEREVELT . 264 
 THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA, by HONTHORST . . 347 
 THE KING OF BOHEMIA, by MIEREVELT . . 369
 
 2 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 procession, would greet her new Highness Palatine. The 
 master of each guild had spent both anxious thought and 
 hard-earned gold on the embellishment of his house, and 
 not only upon the adornment of his portly spouse and the 
 children it had pleased a mighty bounteous Providence to 
 bestow upon him, but even the 'prentice hands had received 
 fresh doublets and feathers for their caps. Hawkers and 
 pedlars had reaped a harvest of small coin from serving- 
 wenches and the wives of humble artisans, and in the 
 neighbouring villages they had driven a brisk trade with 
 the buxom peasant women, all agog at the tempting 
 gaudiness of riband and rosette, of coloured kerchief, and 
 of beaded hair-nets woven in finest silken cord. 
 
 Up at the Castle there had reigned for many days a 
 turmoil of preparation ; and all had toiled in their degree, 
 from her Highness Louise Juliane down to the meanest 
 scullion of the kitchen. The ladies with flying fingers 
 had embroidered pennants and emblazoned cushions ; the 
 musicians had tuned their instruments and discoursed a 
 hundred melodies in arduous practice ; the gardeners had 
 trimmed the primness of the Castle gardens till Spring 
 had some trouble to smile through the strict order which 
 made the trees and plants seem like wooden playthings ; 
 the pastrycooks had raised flaky edifices of delicious 
 promise; the baker-master had attended his stupendous 
 oven continuously ; the cooks and scullions had builded the 
 most savoury pasties, had roasted half a herd of oxen and 
 nigh upon a flock of sheep ; whilst, had the poultry which 
 was a-cooking been flying over Heidelberg, it would have 
 cast a black shadow from the many thousand outstretched 
 wings. The great Tun, celebrated far and wide as the 
 most enormous wine-cask in the world, holding as it did 
 twenty-one pipes of liquid, had been filled to the brim 
 with golden Rhenish wine, and had been set, for the occa- 
 sion, on one of the castle terraces ; while below, the cellars 
 had been stocked anew, barrel upon barrel, to the vaulted 
 roof; yet the cellarer was afeared lest there should not be 
 enough, for there would be nigh upon six thousand throats 
 to be wetted with choice vintages during the coming
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 3 
 
 festivities. Six thousand guests of all degrees to be 
 feasted for twenty days at the expense of the noble Prince 
 Palatine, at his expense and in his Castle of Heidelberg ! 
 True, each day of the year did one thousand persons eat 
 and drink from the bounty of this most wealthy Prince, 
 and twice a year his Highness bestowed a full set of 
 raiment upon his thousand dependants, not counting, of 
 course, the men-at-arms and gentlemen of his guard, 
 who lodged for the most part below in the town, and had 
 their armour and weapons, their rations and small beer, 
 at his Highness's expense. The cellarer was a troubled 
 and yet a proud man, for who could boast so splendid a 
 charge as his ? Who administered such a quantity of 
 rare old Sack, of Tokay, of Malvoisie -these choice 
 liquors which he would presently offer to the princes and 
 nobles at the Palatine's own board ? Who, save the Duke 
 of Wirtemberg's cellar-master, perchance ? But then 
 Stuttgart's was the most lavish of all German Courts. 
 The cellarer sighed, but mentally refused to vie with 
 Wirtemberg's cellarer. The chief gardener had also 
 sighed at the recollection of Stuttgart, for it was notorious 
 that Heidelberg possessed but the second orangery in 
 Germany, copied from that which Duke Christoph of 
 Wirtemberg had caused to be planted in his Lustgarten 
 many years since. 
 
 Meanwhile the preparations for the Lady Elizabeth's 
 reception went on apace and with unceasing labour, for 
 the entertainment of princes means the toil of many 
 menials. And on this seventh day of June, Friedrich V. 
 Prince Palatine, would enter his town of Heidelberg in 
 state with his bride. 
 
 The first sun-rays had chased away the demure dawn, 
 the birds carolled and twittered in the formal gardens of 
 Heidelberg Castle, and with daylight the toilers redoubled 
 their efforts. The master of the waterworks hurried to 
 set the fountains of the plaisance agoing ; gardeners 
 raked the paths afresh with wooden rakes ; from behind 
 the Castle came the discordant roar of the wild animals 
 in his Highness's menagerie, disturbed by attendants
 
 4 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 entering their cages to redd up and make all fair and 
 sweet, lest evil odours should offend the nostrils of 
 England's fastidious daughter. With a burring sound 
 the flags on the Castle towers flung out on the fresh 
 morning breeze. Even the flags were new, in honour of 
 this grand festival, and the little burring sound denoted 
 the stiffness of the texture of the new silk. 
 
 Of a sudden the toilers were startled by the appear- 
 ance from the Otto Heinrich's Bau of a figure in sombre 
 garments ; those who saw her paused in their work and 
 reverentially doffed their caps, but she passed on with 
 hurried steps and returned no word to their salutation. 
 
 " She is anxious and af eared of the English lady," a 
 gardener murmured to his companion, as the tall figure 
 passed them, " or she would never pass us by ungreeted, 
 for she is a very gracious dame, her Highness Juliane." 
 
 " Well, well," grumbled the other gardener, " it is no 
 marvel if she wonders what her son's beloved will be 
 like ! I remember my mother was in a mighty pother 
 when she first saw my old wife ; and then, this lady bride 
 is from foreign climes." They fell a-gossiping of many 
 sorry tales which the servants who had attended his 
 Highness into England had brought back to quiet, orderly 
 Heidelberg ; ugly stories, part true, part false, retailed in 
 the taverns of Westminster; laughable episodes of his 
 Majesty King James's spoiled doublets; of how the 
 British Solomon slobbered his food and drink out of his 
 loose-lipped, overtongued mouth ; hideous insinuations 
 anent his favourites; exaggerated reports of the King's 
 brutal speeches, which, of a truth, needed no magnifying 
 to enhance the original grossness of James's habitual 
 sayings ; awestruck whispers of the lavish prodigality and 
 the opulent magnificence of Whitehall ; of the drunken 
 carousals at Theobald's. 
 
 Her Highness Juliane passed on unconscious of the 
 workers' presence ; but could she have heard the men's 
 talk, gentle lady as she was, she would perchance have 
 clapped them into the Hunger Tower " Selten-oder- 
 nimmer-leer" as it was called from the grim fact that
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 5 
 
 within the memory of man it had never lacked lodgers. 
 For what is so discomfiting as to hear our most unpleasant 
 thoughts echoed by the vulgar in those broad phrases 
 which reveal Fact without the decent raiment of Decep- 
 tion, wherewith the elegant of the world clothe the ugly 
 hag Reality ? Indeed, her Highness's own mind dwelled 
 on these same accounts of England's ruler and his abode ; 
 and her heart misgave her when she recalled the anec- 
 dotes of the home of her son's young wife. Yet had she, 
 Juliane, promoted the marriage for ambition's sake, and 
 for the cause of the Reformed Faith ; and now the states- 
 woman and the stern Calvinist fell back into the tender 
 mother, yearning over her son's future, craving happiness 
 for him, and let the world with its fond dreams of pride 
 and avarice, let the religious factions and their fiery 
 theologies go hang ! She longed for peace and plenty, 
 for love and joy for her child, and she agonised in her 
 soul, as she had agonised in her flesh, when she had 
 borne him eighteen years ago. 
 
 She passed on to the terrace overlooking the town 
 towards Ladenburg, and her eyes strained into the distance 
 where she knew the company of travellers must be 
 those splendid travellers, Elizabeth Stuart and Friedrich, 
 Prince Palatine coming in triumph to their ancient 
 Heidelberg. The Countess Juliane leaned her arms on 
 the parapet and gazed upon the beauty of the Spring 
 country. Below her nestled closely the red-brown roofs of 
 the township, and from the city's hearths little spirals of 
 blue smoke arose, betraying the preparation of the burghers' 
 morning meal. The river Neckar flowed away in tranquil 
 beauty between the gentle rise of the blossom-decked hills. 
 Ah God ! ah God ! would the English princess love and 
 tend Friedrich, the son of her love ? She chid herself 
 sternly for her want of trust in God, and her thoughts 
 turned to her own past and the years of peace and happy 
 love which had been hers with Friedrich's father. She 
 recalled her entry into Heidelberg twenty years ago ; it 
 had been full summer then, the white glory of the blossom 
 had passed, and the trees stood in all their pride, rich in
 
 6 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 fresh green foliage. She remembered how lonely she had 
 felt, how young and uncertain, and how the pageant had 
 struck awe into her heart. Perhaps Elizabeth Stuart was 
 knowing the same pang of strangeness ? But no, she 
 came from a Court where pageants and pomp were the 
 things of every day ; whereas she, Juliane, had come from 
 quiet Holland, where her life had been ordered by the 
 severe yet cultured Princess Louise de Coligny. There 
 it had been decorum of life, ruled by austere though 
 kindly souls, simplicity and dignity at once. She re- 
 collected how in Heidelberg the constant allusion to each 
 noble's genealogical table had dismayed and puzzled her, 
 how she had despaired of comprehending the subtle dis- 
 tinctions between the rank of this Baron and that Count. 
 Here all had been regulated by prescription, by right of 
 ancestry or office, while Juliane had been nurtured in 
 principles of almost republican equality which obtained 
 in the highly civilised states of Holland ; but Germany, 
 despite the wealth of both noble and burgher, was less 
 lettered, and therefore incapable of easy, refined social 
 intercourse. In Holland she had been used to daily con- 
 verse anent learned matters, for Louise de Coligny had 
 brought some of the elegant erudition of France to the 
 Hague. In Heidelberg Juliane had found constant 
 banqueting, much talk of the chase, varied at best by 
 fierce polemics ; but learning and culture hid in the 
 universities, and their votaries conversed in Latin, leaving 
 the German tongue to the unlettered. Thus she had 
 found little or no traffic of the mind in her new surround- 
 ings. Ah well ! things had changed somewhat since 
 then, and she reflected that Elizabeth nowadays would 
 find at least as polished a court in Heidelberg as she had 
 left in England, albeit the pomp and splendour were less. 
 And Friedrich ? She had reared him strictly in the stern 
 rule of Calvin ; all who had leaned to the laxer teachings 
 of Luther had been banished ; no Lutheran tract or treatise 
 had been permitted in the Palatinate, and she had caused 
 those harbouring such light literature to be fined, and the 
 odious writings to be burned by the common hangman.
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 7 
 
 Yet was Friedrich, withal, no unpolished dullard. She had 
 sent him to France to learn the elegancy of life. God 
 alone knew what it had cost her to part with her son for 
 so much of his youth, but she had permitted and en- 
 couraged his prolonged residence at Sedan with her 
 sister's husband, that proud Due de Bouillon, the pattern 
 of Protestant princes, an ornament, despite his austerity, 
 of the gay court of France. 
 
 Yes, Friedrich was a courtly gentleman. Would she 
 love him this English Princess ? " Ah God ! just 
 Judge," she prayed, " if it be Thy will, give him happi- 
 ness. Give my son joy and content if it be for his 
 salvation," she added hastily, the habit of the Calvinistic 
 conscience coming to correct the human passion of 
 tenderness which surged in the mother's heart. " If it 
 be Thy will, joy and content if it be Thy will." For a 
 moment she covered her eyes with her hand, shutting 
 out the glory of Spring. Somewhere below in the plain, 
 which spread in blue and hazy distance beyond the en- 
 circling hills, there rang out a fanfare of trumpets, and 
 at the same moment behind her she heard the clatter of 
 horses' hoofs. She raised her head to listen, and, turn- 
 ing, saw a line of grooms leading richly caparisoned 
 steeds from the stables across the inner moat towards 
 the castle courtyard. The horses of the princes sojourn- 
 ing at Heidelberg for the festivities were being led to 
 their noble riders, who would forthwith mount and pro- 
 ceed to meet the Palsgrave and his bride at the outskirts 
 of the little city of Ladenburg, where, forming into a 
 magnificent procession, they would escort the bridal pair 
 into Heidelberg. 
 
 The Countess Juliane sighed ; it irked her to reflect 
 upon the hundred ceremonies Friedrich and the Lady 
 Elizabeth would pass through ere she beheld them. She 
 had waited calmly during the long months since her 
 son's nuptials in England, but her impatience had grown 
 with every sunrise, and while Elizabeth had tarried in 
 Holland with her husband's uncle, Prince Maurice of 
 Orange, it had seemed to Juliane as if each day had
 
 8 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 learned a slower tread than the preceding span ; and now 
 she was aware of the awful length of hours, the cruel 
 slowness of minutes. 
 
 A cavalcade clattered across the drawbridge of the 
 inner moat towards the narrow gateway of the outer wall. 
 A company of princes it was for the most part. First 
 rode his Highness the Duke of Zweibrlicken, who by 
 virtue of his close kinship had been the Administrator of 
 the Palatinate, a title he still bore pending Prince Fried- 
 rich's attainment of his majority. There rode old Duke 
 Christian of Anhalt, stern warrior, and ruthless antagonist 
 of the House of Hapsburg. Then came the magnificent 
 Duke of Wirtemberg and his brothers ; and, gayer than 
 all, Duke Magnus of Wirtemberg, a thoughtless youth, 
 famous at the German Courts for his pranks and clown- 
 like pleasantries. Prince Louis Philip, Count Palatine, 
 Juliane's youngest son, rode beside Prince Christian the 
 younger of Anhalt, and the Markgraves of Anspach and 
 Brandenburg ; then there were my Lords of Handschuhs- 
 heim, of Hirshhorn, of Minneburg, of Zwingenberg ; and 
 that Count of Steinach whose forbears had won by their 
 robber deeds the proud title of Landschad (land-despoiler), 
 a grim name now borne as a mark of high and old nobility. 
 There, too, was the Count of Diebsberg, descendant of 
 another famous robber baron, as the name denotes. The 
 cortege was followed by a troop of pages and esquires, 
 cadets of noble families. 
 
 Juliane heard the younger men's voices raised in 
 pleasantry; through the filmy tracery of the leaves of 
 the beech trees at the end of the terrace she saw the 
 flash of burnished breastplates, for the riders Avere all in 
 full battle array in honour of the mock warfare which 
 would be the chief feature of Elizabeth's reception. Her 
 face darkened, for she hated and despised sham battles, 
 feared them, too, since the day her husband's young kins- 
 man and friend, Louis Philip, the namesake of that gay 
 young prince just ridden by, had received his death- 
 wound in a tourney here at Heidelberg. She shuddered 
 when she recalled the dark hours she had spent, when,
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 9 
 
 still weak from childbirth, she had attended the gorgeous 
 festivities, and had witnessed the sinister ending of that 
 fine tournament given in the babe's honour. All the 
 superstitious terrors of that omen-tortured age had rioted 
 in the young mother's soul, and when, two days after the 
 prince's death, a furious earthquake had caused the 
 towers of Heidelberg to rock and sway, she had responded 
 by an agony of fear to the stern preachings of the Calvin- 
 ist divines, who had thundered warning and condemna- 
 tion upon the light pleasures of mock battles, of earthly 
 pomp, and boisterous feastings, calling the prince's death 
 a just retribution for such sinful joustings, and affirming 
 the earthquake to be a portent of the righteous wrath of 
 an outraged God. 
 
 She asked herself now if these ceremonious rejoicings, 
 this display of human power and splendour, this magni- 
 ficent panoply of warfare exhibited for the lust of earthly 
 pomp were not an insult to God, a thing of evil import, 
 a dire offence ? And for this fool feasting, for these 
 hollow glories, was her Friedrich risking the happy pre- 
 sage of his youthful joy ? 
 
 Below in the town the clock of the Heilig Geist 
 Church tolled the hour. Juliane started. Could it be so 
 late ? She marvelled that the leaden-footed hours had 
 passed so swiftly. Once more she chid herself for a 
 timorous woman, weak in trust of the Almighty's clem- 
 ency, for she clung to the mercy of God although she had 
 been taught to remember chiefly His wrath and His eter- 
 nal vengeance. With an effort she withdrew her thoughts 
 from doleful ponderings, and turning from the terrace 
 parapet she walked rapidly through the narrow garden, 
 past the Hunger Thurm, and over the inner drawbridge 
 into the courtyard. Everywhere she was met with venera- 
 tion, even the sentries at the gate received her not only 
 with the ordinary salute of honour, but with friendly 
 though respectful greeting. She was not proud, this 
 noble Princess of Orange, save with that unconscious 
 pride of dignity, which the humble and the simple love 
 and answer to with freely given reverence and good affec-
 
 10 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 tion. God wot ! her Highness could reprove and utterly 
 discomfit a forward wench, a pert youth, or a presumptu- 
 ous burgher ; but with the simple she was simple, be they 
 soldier or serving-maid, prince or noble dame. 
 
 Now, having banished dark thoughts and forebodings, 
 her quick and housewifely eye probed each detail of 
 domestic labour. She cast a searching glance round the 
 courtyard, reproved a slatternly serving-man who had 
 spilled water from the fountain on to the steps of the 
 Otto Heinrich's Bau ; inquired why a dirty clout fluttered 
 from one of the windows of the " Kemenate " ; sent an 
 urgent message to the kitchen desiring the master of the 
 roast to watch, lest some careless turnspit should allow 
 burning fat to fester on the bars of the huge open fire- 
 place and diffuse ill odours through the yard. " Must 
 her new Highness Palatine be greeted with the ugly 
 stench of roasting viands as though she entered a tavern 
 instead of her own castle ? " she queried. " She, to whom 
 I would offer only the fragrance of roses to perfume all 
 her days and fill her soul with sweetness," she murmured 
 to herself as she passed on. 
 
 In the Friedrich's Bau, where lay the lodging of the 
 Lady Elizabeth, all appeared well and duly ordered. The 
 Countess Juliane shrank momentarily from a sharp stab 
 of memory as she beheld the spacious apartments, for 
 here had she dwelt for many years until a few weeks 
 back, when she had changed her domicile to the Otto 
 Heinrich's Bau. She had not lived here as a young 
 bride, for the Friedrich's Bau had been built by her 
 husband's command in the halcyon days of their wedded 
 life ; but she had spent a few years with her spouse in 
 peace in this fair dwelling-place ; and the solemn hours 
 of her widow's mourning had been passed here. She 
 felt as though her grief and sorrowful communings had 
 consecrated these walls, and turned each chamber into a 
 quiet sanctuary. Yet she had deemed this more sump- 
 tuous habitation to be better fitted for the reigning 
 Princess Palatine than for the deposed chatelaine, and 
 no jealous pang had stirred in her when she had owned
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 11 
 
 herself dethroned. Friedrich's wife could not appear to 
 her as an usurper, but as a rightful ruler come to claim 
 her own glad heritage. Still Julian e had grieved at 
 leaving her abode, and she sighed as she passed through 
 the rooms. 
 
 The windows of the Lady Elizabeth's apartments lay in 
 shadow, and the Countess Juliane consulted her memory 
 anxiously as to whether the sun would shine into the 
 rooms at the hour of her new Highness Palatine's arrival. 
 Surely yes, at midday the Friedrich's Bau was wont to 
 be flooded with sunshine. She rejoiced that it should 
 be so. 
 
 Her Highness's rooms were four in number, and led 
 from the broad, marbled corridor looking out on the 
 courtyard, whilst the chamber-windows opened on to a 
 grand view of terraced garden, and far below the deep 
 valley with the red roofs of the city houses ; then, the 
 tranquil progress of the river Neckar ; and beyond, as a 
 boundary to vision, the long line of the blossom-covered 
 Heiligenberg. 
 
 The Countess Juliane stood for a moment at the window 
 of the first room, or ante-hall, where the gentlemen and 
 pages of the suite were wont to wait. On the broad, 
 open hearth there blazed a fire of beech logs, for albeit 
 June had come, Spring had been but a tardy visitant that 
 year, and a chill lingered over the world. Juliane passed 
 into her Highness's own antechamber, destined for the 
 use of the ladies of Elizabeth's suite, a splendid room 
 enough, with marbled floor and panelled walls. A high 
 green porcelain stove stood in one corner, and here was a 
 niche between the stove and the wall with a quaint seat 
 wrought in the same coloured faience, where Friedrich as 
 a little boy had loved to sit, cowering close to the warmth 
 on winter evenings. She had rallied him often, calling 
 him " Master Dormouse," " Little Prince Shiverkin," and 
 the like ; but her ladies had ever prayed her spare him 
 to them, vowing that he was better than any troubadour 
 of old, and that he told them wondrous tales of martial 
 deeds while he sat so warmly in the stove corner. Ah !
 
 12 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 he had been a winsome child, her Friedrich ; sure the 
 English Princess must needs love him now that he had 
 reached so fair a manhood ? 
 
 She went on into her Highness's audience-chamber 
 and withdrawing-room, a gorgeous apartment with glow- 
 ing tapestries on the walls between the panels. Tall 
 carven chairs with cushioned seats stood here, and before 
 one was a small tabouret with a silk-embroidered centre, 
 which Friedrich himself had commanded to be placed 
 before her Highness's chair, having seen such conceits 
 in Danish Anne's luxurious apartments at Westminster. 
 The last room of the suite was the Lady Elizabeth's 
 bedchamber, and, as Juliane entered, it struck her as of 
 happy augury that the room was flooded with sunshine. 
 It faced north-east, and thus the sun on his progress had 
 hastened to smile into the Princess's apartments. So 
 Juliane told herself, with that touch of poetic exaggera- 
 tion which lives for ever in the soul of one to whom God 
 has vouchsafed the gift of deep affection, be it a lover 
 extolling his beloved, or a mother yearning over her 
 child's happiness. Her Highness's sleeping-chamber was 
 hung with golden brocade, and the four-poster bed was 
 sheltered by silken curtains of golden damask. Here, 
 too, on the wide hearth beech logs flamed. 
 
 Juliane bent with an impulse of tenderness and laid 
 her lips on the stiffly embroidered coverlet upon the bed. 
 In that mother-kiss she gave a welcome and a blessing 
 to the stranger to the English Princess, in whose hands 
 was Friedrich 's destiny, and in whose keeping was the 
 faithful love of his heart as Juliane had seen both by her 
 son's letters from England, and by his words and actions 
 during the hasty visit he had paid to Heidelberg to 
 inspect the arrangements for his bride's reception. 
 Opening a narrow door, Juliane looked into her High- 
 ness's closet or tiring-room. Here stood the silver wash- 
 ing vessels which the Duchesse de Bouillon had sent out 
 of France, the basin and ewer, the chased perfume-flagons 
 and hairbrushes. 
 
 All was in order for the Pearl of England's reception.
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 13 
 
 Once more Juliane gazed from the window on the familiar 
 landscape. " It is very fair, this land," she told herself; 
 " will she love it too, and give my son content in the 
 home of his fathers ? " 
 
 As she gazed at the smiling valley she reflected that, 
 perhaps, Spring had waited so that his masterpiece of 
 bloom should be still there for the land's greeting to 
 Elizabeth Stuart. " A fitting bridal wreath on hill and 
 vale ; a right fair coronal for my sweet Friedrich's love ! " 
 she murmured, as she gazed on the white beauty of the 
 blossom-crowned country. 
 
 " Madame ! " a voice broke in on her reverie 
 " Madame, despite your orders to be undisturbed this 
 morning, I must e'en venture to recall the hour to you." 
 
 It was one of her ladies who stood beside her. " Be not 
 angered, Madame, for indeed the day grows apace, and 
 it is time your Highness robed herself for the procession." 
 
 " Is it so late ? Come, let us hasten," Juliane answered 
 gently. " It is a very fair and gracious day to me when 
 I can hasten to meet my Friedrich's well-beloved lady." 
 
 In the town of Heidelberg excitement and ex- 
 pectation had reached a point of strained attention 
 which was almost anguish. Not alone was it the 
 curiosity of a gaping crowd which would be satisfied by 
 the sight of a splendid pageant, it was the anxious ex- 
 pectation of a people to behold a princess upon whose 
 goodwill much of their future welfare depended; and 
 more, it was the affectionate solicitude of loyal friends 
 and trusty retainers seeing for the first time the woman 
 destined to make or mar the happiness of a beloved lord 
 and ruler. Friedrich of the Palatinate was the cherished 
 jewel of his people; they had seen him grow from in- 
 fancy to manhood ; they had grieved with the Countess 
 Juliane during his absences at Sedan; they had wel- 
 comed him on his return, marking with interest his 
 growth, and sharing the mother's pride in the debonair 
 youth's progress. His father, Friedrich IV., had been an 
 honoured and much mourned master, but Friedrich V.
 
 14 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 was the son of the people's affection. It was, indeed, a 
 critical audience before which Elizabeth Stuart was to 
 play the first act of her life's drama. True, she had sus- 
 tained a prominent rule in that gorgeous prologue, the 
 pageantry in England, but that had been among her own 
 people and in a familiar setting, where folks forgot to 
 note the chief actors in their wonder at the lavish costli- 
 ness of the mounting of the play. 
 
 In spite of the gloom which the death of Prince 
 Henry, James's eldest son, the " verrie deere brother and 
 firm friend " of Elizabeth Stuart, had cast over England, 
 the wedding festivities had been on a scale of mag- 
 nificence which had not only appalled the Puritans, but 
 even the nobles and courtiers had stood aghast at so 
 vast an outlay of state-needed gold. One hundred and 
 forty thousand pounds were reported to have been spent 
 upon the espousals alone, and the Lady Elizabeth's 
 dowry had doubled that sum. It was whispered that 
 her Highness's wedding raiment had cost a duke's 
 revenue; her white satin gown had been so heavily 
 broidered in silver that she could scarce stand ; upon her 
 head she had borne a crown of refined gold studded and 
 embossed with giant pearls and diamonds, standing like 
 shining pinnacles over her " deep amber-coloured " hair, 
 which had hung in massive plaits to her waist, and 
 between the braiding of each plait had been chains of 
 gold, pearls, diamonds, and rubies. The Puritans had 
 said bitterly that the British Solomon had outdone the 
 King of Israel in his glory, even if he could not hence- 
 forward lay claim to the wisdom of the Jewish monarch ! 
 James had shambled through the ceremonies with jewels 
 about his neck and on his breast worth a hundred thousand 
 pounds ; while Anne of Denmark had shone modestly in 
 gems valued at a trifling four hundred thousand pounds. 
 The wedding anthem had been : " Blessed is he that 
 feareth the Lord," and the Puritans had murmured that 
 the God-fearing man did not waste his substance upon 
 earthly pomp, upon gauds and shining baubles. Yet 
 even they, the stern, cruel men who had hounded Marie
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 15 
 
 Stuart to imprisonment and death, had well-nigh par- 
 doned James for his prodigality when they had re- 
 membered Elizabeth's mission upon earth ; and those 
 who had seen her had joined in the eulogy of her 
 beauty, that heavenly radiance which they averred shone 
 from her face and betokened the especial grace of God. 
 Already all men, even the Puritans, fell under the magic 
 of her smile, though they ascribed their faltering to the 
 divine favour impressed upon one destined to serve 
 God's elect, and to further the uprooting of the Church 
 of Antichrist. 
 
 Thus England had sent forth her royal daughter with 
 a very halo of romance, an almost legendary splendour 
 of unparalleled magnificence calculated to stir the 
 imagination of all Europe. 
 
 The grave burghers of Heidelberg were well aware of 
 the political importance of their Prince's union ; the 
 sincere votaries of the Reformed Faith looked upon it as 
 an earnest of the triumph of Calvin's doctrines. To 
 them, as to the English Puritans, she was God's own 
 chosen handmaiden, the especial instrument of destiny. 
 
 To the good people of the Palatinate she was their 
 new lady, the consort of a beloved ruler ; to the youthful 
 members of the community she seemed a queen of 
 romance stepped living from one of those fond histories 
 of doughty deeds, chivalrous knights, fair ladyes, 
 passionate devotion, and glorious -gallantry those sweet 
 and merry stories so harshly banished from the dull 
 shelves of the Calvinists' libraries, but enshrined in the 
 hearts of all romantic youths. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart's journey from England commenced 
 on the twenty-first day of April, but the elements rose in 
 anger when the Pearl of England was ravished from her 
 " ain countree " ; in other words, a furious storm drove the 
 fleet back to theBritish coast, and it was only on the twenty- 
 eighth day that her Highness was safely landed in Holland. 
 Prince Maurice of Orange, more solicitous than Elizabeth's 
 own father, who by that time was returned to his orgies 
 at Theobald's, had despatched one Master Samuel More, his
 
 16 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 chief navigator, to pilot her Highness's ships through the 
 dangerous sandbanks and hidden shoals off the Dutch 
 
 O 
 
 coast, and the gallant company had arrived without 
 mishap. Nevertheless there were not wanting in doleful 
 presagers who whispered that to be obliged to turn back 
 on a voyage was an ill omen ; but these sinister rumours 
 were forgotten in the rejoicings which Prince Maurice 
 and the States of Holland offered in homage to the 
 splendid wayfarers. It seemed as though Prince Maurice, 
 who usually affected an almost boorish simplicity 
 of dress and manners, had fallen from the outset 
 under Elizabeth Stuart's spell ; and the Dutch burghers 
 and substantial merchants followed their Stadthouder's 
 example, and rendered an almost frenzied homage to the 
 English Princess. Banquets and processions, music, and 
 representations of French comedies were the order of the 
 hour; and, what pleased her Highness more than these, a 
 succession of hunting-parties, where Elizabeth herself 
 shot several stags. Her prowess was duly recorded in 
 the chronicles of the day in France, Germany, and Eng- 
 land, wherein she was lauded as a very Diana. 
 Seemingly Prince Maurice of Orange could not part 
 with his young kinswoman, and Friedrich, having 
 hurried on to Heidelberg to inspect the arrangements 
 for Elizabeth's home-coming, Prince Maurice gallantly 
 escorted her through the States and into Germany. At 
 every town she was feasted and sumptuously entertained, 
 and each city vied with the other in the lavishness of their 
 gifts and the prolixity of their orations in her honour. 
 At length, having reached Cologne with his fair charge, 
 Prince Maurice took his leave, and Elizabeth continued 
 her progress unattended, save by the hundred and 
 eighty-eight persons she had brought with her out of 
 England. The roads being notoriously unfit for heavy 
 coaches, it was decided at Cologne that her Highness 
 should proceed by ship up the Rhine. When she 
 approached the water's edge she found no ordinary State 
 vessels, but a fairy fleet, awaiting her. Elizabeth's own 
 barge was built in the shape of an altar, a gilded lion
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 17 
 
 stood at the prow, and a golden figure representing 
 Fortuna was at the stern. The sails were of golden 
 damask ; the flags of red, gold, and blue silk, grandly 
 broidered with the arms of England. A royal-blue 
 pennant fluttered over her Highness's baldaquin, with 
 the device, " Honi soit qui mal y pense." Blue and 
 crimson velvet hangings and carpets covered the bows and 
 deck, and the roof of the baldaquin was of blue velvet to 
 represent the sky, and the stars thereon were wrought in 
 pure gold, This magic barge was followed by three other 
 fine ships for the accommodation of her Highness's suite. 
 
 In stately procession the fleet sailed up the Rhine. 
 Fortunately for the voyagers in their sumptuous barges 
 the heavens smiled, and neither rain nor wind came to 
 destroy the beauty of Friedrich's extravagant homage; 
 and Elizabeth could thrill at the poetical devotion of 
 so romantically lavish a lord and lover. Her Highness 
 observed that her fairy fleet was followed by a substantial 
 vessel of unpretending dimensions and with no fairy-like 
 adornments, but solid and well covered ; and it caused 
 her to smile when she was told that the Countess Juliane 
 had despatched this craft, unknown to Fried rich, fearing 
 lest the weather should prove inclement, and Elizabeth 
 should be rewarded with drenched raiment for her trust 
 in her love-sick lord's arrangements. 
 
 Yet, despite the smiles of the heavens, the splendour of 
 the progress, the constant pleasure of hearing and re- 
 sponding to the orations which city and even village 
 magnates proclaimed from the banks of the Rhine to the 
 slow-moving and constantly hindered fairy fleet, the Lady 
 Elizabeth had grown right weary of ceremony and travel ; 
 and even the converse of her honoured companions, the 
 Earl and Countess of Harrington, the noble Duke of 
 Lennox, Viscount Leslie, Lord Arundell, Sir Edward 
 Cecil, and of her own close friend Mistress Anne Dudley, 
 failed to relieve the tedium of the protracted journey. 
 When, on a sudden, through the flowering fields near 
 Bacharach, a group of gaily attired horsemen appeared 
 on the river banks, and Friedrich Prince Palatine, weary 
 
 B
 
 18 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 of ceremonies and impatient to behold his loved lady, had 
 ridden forth to greet her. The fairy fleet hove to, and his 
 Highness boarded the royal barge. 
 
 " My lord ! my lord ! this is indeed a happy day," 
 Elizabeth said, and a trifle abashed she was at this amor- 
 ous impatience shown before so mighty a concourse of 
 people, and in the midst of so ceremonious a progress. 
 
 " Be not wroth, sweet queen of my heart," he whis- 
 pered; " I could wait no longer ! Methought the day had 
 a hundred hours, and the night a million years while I 
 was far from you," and he drew her, unresisting, into her 
 curtained baldaquin. 
 
 Perhaps because all the world loves a lover, and the 
 human heart is ever stirred by the homage of a fine youth 
 for his beloved, the enthusiasm for the Lady Elizabeth 
 was increased tenfold by the rumour that her deeply 
 enamoured spouse had broken the bonds of ceremony 
 and flown to meet his love. Popular acclamation re- 
 doubled, and the citizens of each town through which the 
 bridal cortege passed grew more than ever vociferous in 
 plaudits, more lavish in costly gifts; and, alas! waxed 
 more profuse in oration and laudatory verse. Oppenheim, 
 the first Palatine city which Elizabeth entered, outdid all 
 other towns in music, garlands, quaint processions, trium- 
 phal arches, banquets, and orations, until her Highness 
 was near done to death by too much kindness ! Still 
 love, the sun, and the spring country smiled, and the 
 world seemed very fair to her. 
 
 And on this seventh day of June she was to enter Heidel- 
 berg. It was whispered through the waiting crowd that 
 though Prince Friedrich had dutifully returned from 
 Oppenheim according to ancient custom to receive his 
 bride in state upon her entry into his domains, he had 
 hastened to his beloved secretly the preceding night, and 
 though he would greet her formally at Ladenburg he had 
 not ridden forth that morning from Heidelberg with the 
 other princes ; and, in truth, he would but have quitted 
 the Lady Elizabeth for a few short hours before he bade 
 her welcome publicly. This delighted the public exceed-
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 19 
 
 ingly ; the maidens sighed and wished for themselves so 
 ardent a lover ; the old dames smiled and recalled their 
 own long- vanished courting days ; while the men pondered 
 on how sweet a lady this must be for a man to love her 
 so madly. 
 
 At last there fell on the listening ears the boom of 
 cannon, the royal salute at Ladenburg. Again and 
 again Echo caught the sound and rolled it round in rum- 
 bling grandeur between the hills. Now, on a sudden, 
 there was a loud blast of trumpets in the valley near by, 
 and my Lord Seneschal appeared with two hundred red- 
 clad, mounted lackeys and finely habited equerries to clear 
 the way for the procession. The Lord Chief Huntsman 
 followed with a goodly company of green-coated hunters, 
 hawkers, and falconers. The Palatine's chief retainers 
 marched next, with gilded badges on their caps and 
 scarves of sky-blue silk across their breasts. Then rode 
 a bevy of nobles of the land in full battle array, with 
 clank of steel and martial air, each lord, as in another 
 age, preceded by his squire bearing a banner emblazoned 
 with heraldic devices. There were the Counts of Hohen- 
 lohe, of Nassau, of Sarbriicken, of Witgenstein, of Lb'wen- 
 stein, and many other proud nobles of Germany, riding 
 splendid, richly caparisoned steeds. Lesser nobles followed 
 a brave and merry train. After these, in companies, 
 the followers of each prince: of the young princes of 
 Wirtemberg, of Anhalt, of the Rhenish Palatinate, of 
 Brandenburg, Anspach, Baden, and the rest, in the liveries 
 and uniforms of each royal house. There came bands 
 of trumpeters and several regiments of musketeers, of 
 halberdiers, and mounted soldiery; and if these were 
 for the most part mercenaries and professional adven- 
 turers it mattered not, they made a gallant show. Again 
 a body of trumpeters marched past, and then there 
 rode the heralds wearing the sumptuous red and gold 
 embroidered tabards of their office. After these came a 
 troop of horsemen armed cap-a-pie in burnished steel ; 
 and then, slowly, a great gilded coach hove in sight. A 
 breathless stillness fell on the crowd, an almost awestruck
 
 20 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 silence, for now that the long-awaited moment was at 
 hand it seemed sudden startling. The swaying vehicle 
 with its snow-white horses came slowly onward. 
 
 " Keep back from the coach's window, dear Pfalzgraf," 
 called an aged gaffer. " Keep back, your dear High- 
 ness, that we may see your lady's face." 
 
 And Prince Friedrich, sweeping his plumed hat from 
 his head in a courtly salute, cried loudly : " Ye do well, 
 my friends, to wish to see our fair pearl of loveliness ! " 
 and he reined back his prancing steed from beside the 
 coach-window so that Elizabeth's sweet, haunting face 
 was seen by all. There came a sigh of very wonder 
 from all beholders, a moment's stillness as of prayer, then 
 from ten thousand lips a cry burst forth : " Hail ! hail ! 
 Elizabeth ! Hail to the Pearl of England ! Hail and 
 welcome, lady, to this land ! " 
 
 Near the coach rode a group of youthful princes, a young 
 Duke of Wirtemberg, Prince Louis Philip of the Palatinate, 
 and Prince Christian of Anhalt the younger. These had 
 defied the trammels of ceremonious custom which assigned 
 them places in the cortege of princes, and had craved leave 
 to act as the Lady Elizabeth's especial guard ; and Prince 
 Friedrich, who had refused to occupy his appointed place 
 in a second gilded coach, had upheld the chivalrous gentle- 
 men in their petition and had himself led this noble escort 
 beside her Highness's chariot. 
 
 After Elizabeth's carriage came several ponderous, 
 heavily decorated coaches wherein the most illustrious of 
 the English visitors were seated, and in serried ranks her 
 Highness's retinue followed : English divines, secretaries 
 and pages, physicians and surgeons, trencher-bearers, 
 cellarers, English cooks, bakers and scullions, wardrobe 
 men and maids, tailors and broiderers, furriers, shoe- 
 makers, and many lackeys ; and even her Highness's own 
 laundresses had come with her out of England ; and, of 
 course, her tiring-women, her hairdressers and other 
 personal attendants, and a stud of horses with their 
 drivers, grooms, ostlers, sumptermen. Each of the Lady 
 Elizabeth's ladies had a dozen flunkeys and serving-
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 21 
 
 wenches, each noble guest had half a hundred retainers 
 and their servants' servants. Indeed, the procession 
 looked mighty like the arrival of an invading army, whose 
 straggling line reached a couple of miles along the road, 
 and afforded much diversion to the Heidelberg burghers 
 for many hours. 
 
 Elizabeth's way was strewn with roses, and the houses 
 were so decked with green or flowering branches that the 
 city seemed a very bower. Everywhere slender sprays of 
 lilac, and clustering garlands of white May-blossom filled 
 the air with delicate fragrance. Little children and young 
 maidens held up bloom-covered branches, youths and men 
 waved green boughs ; and, if there was a sad face or an 
 unsightly cripple in Heidelberg, that day sorrow and 
 weakness seemed banished, and only spring, beauty, gaiety, 
 and happiness came forth to meet Elizabeth Stuart. And 
 she gave the people of the magic of her smile ; and when, 
 at the first triumphal archway she responded to the 
 reverent Burgomaster's long oration in a few words of 
 halting German, the enthusiasm of the populace broke 
 forth again in tremendous applause. 
 
 " Where learned you these German sayings, dear heart?" 
 Friedrich whispered, bending from his saddle. 
 
 " Your kinsman, Christian of Anhalt, taught me them 
 while we tarried at Ladenburg to-day," she answered gaily. 
 
 " Ah, Christian ! you dare to woo her Highness ? " 
 Friedrich laughed, as he drew back behind the coach to 
 leave Elizabeth in view of the crowd. 
 
 " Who would not woo her ? He must be a churl 
 indeed who does not worship the potent magic of her 
 glance," the youth answered, with a flush on his beard- 
 less cheek. 
 
 Slowly the long cortege moved forward, until it came 
 to the last and most ornate of the many triumphal 
 arches which Heidelberg had raised to honour their new 
 Pfalzgrafin. Here the procession halted. The arch was 
 a fine pillared structure, and was decked with branches 
 torn from his Highness's orangery, and with other strange 
 foreign plants and tall white lilies. In the middle was a
 
 22 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 gallery where musicians discoursed sweet music from 
 lutes, violins, and flutes. From out the encircling laurel 
 garlands peeped pictures of the Reformers, Melanchthon, 
 Luther, and Calvin ; and below them were statues of the 
 four Evangelists ; while enthroned on the summit of the 
 arch was a mythological figure representing Juno, goddess 
 of conjugal fidelity. This heterogeneous collection of 
 symbols was alluded to in a long Latin oration pro- 
 nounced by the venerable Lord Rector of Heidelberg 
 University, and it was only among the group of eminent 
 scholars who accompanied his Reverence that the ill- 
 chosen significance of the symbolic conceits was noticed ; 
 but these gentlemen marvelled that Juno had been 
 selected for comparison, as it was well known that though 
 the goddess protected marriage, her own wedded bliss had 
 been but a sorry spectacle. Then, too, it displeased the 
 learned doctors to see the depictments of Luther and 
 Calvin together, for that doctrine which the one had 
 taught was abominable to the other, and the simultaneous 
 presentment of their lineaments was a portent of lax 
 broadness of thought which could surely never be en- 
 couraged by earnest men. Then, too, the presence of 
 frivolous music was but ill suited to an archway repre- 
 senting such grave matters as religion and wedded fidelity. 
 While these murmurs ran through the group of black- 
 gowned divines, the Lord Rector poured forth a volume 
 of eulogy, of theological subtleties and mythological 
 absurdities which, perchance, fell familiarly on the hear- 
 ing of the Lady Elizabeth, for she was but too well used 
 to her father's, James the Pedant's, endless diatribes, to do 
 aught save weary a trifle. The excellent discourse ended, 
 for all things end when they have exacted their full tax 
 of human weariness. 
 
 Then followed a pretty conceit: a child personating 
 Cupid came forward and offered her Highness a gilt basket 
 laden with fruit, and decorated with so generous a pro- 
 fusion of roses and white lilies that Cupid himself was 
 half hidden. 
 
 " Madame ! " the child's voice came shrilly, " Madame,
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 23 
 
 la Deesse Flora et la Deesse Polmona vous saluent et vous 
 souhaitent toute Benediction et Felicite 1 , elles vous envoient 
 cette corbeille." 
 
 " Ah ! Lift the little one up, my lords, that I may 
 thank him right worthily ! " cried the Lady Elizabeth. 
 And one of the attendant gentlemen lifted the child to 
 the level of the coach's window. 
 
 " Mesdames les Deesses ont un bien joli messager ! " she 
 said ; and, bending through the window, she laid her fresh 
 lips on the child's brow. A woman in the crowd broke 
 forth into a sob of delight, and again a mighty cry went 
 up of: " Hail! our Elizabeth! Hail! sweet, gracious lady! " 
 
 Now was to be enacted the climax of the day's cere- 
 monies. It had been arranged that as her Highness 
 passed through the last archway a crown of refined gold 
 and precious gems should be lowered on to her coach ; 
 it had been contrived that this diadem should be firmly 
 fastened with rivets prepared on the carriage, and that 
 thus gloriously crowned her Highness should enter the 
 Castle of Heidelberg. Two young boys habited inflowing 
 white draperies and with golden wings on their shoulders 
 were to lower this crown from the archway with silken 
 cords, and two tall youths arrayed in full mediaeval armour 
 representing the Paladins of old, were ordered to reach up 
 and fasten the sacred symbol firmly on to the vehicle's 
 roof with the rivets. Now it must be recollected that 
 during the Lord Rector's copious oration and the manifold 
 ceremonies of the long morning, her Highness's coach- 
 horses had stood in the midst of a cheering crowd, and 
 already during the last halt they had trembled and 
 started, and it had required all their grooms' blandish- 
 ments to keep them quiet ; now they proved restive, and 
 despite their leaders' efforts they started violently forward, 
 dragging the heavy coach joltingly along. The crown, 
 which had just been lowered, was flung off the coach-roof 
 and hurled into the flower-strewn road. Like some piteous 
 dead thing it lay in a grave of flowers. 
 
 A groan of horror went up from the watching crowd. 
 "The crown has fallen!" "It is an ill omen!" "It
 
 24 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 means an evil fate ! " " 111 omen ! ill omen ! " ran from 
 lip to lip. Yet, ere the whisper ceased, another fearsome 
 thing befell, for Prince Friedrich's horse, grown restive 
 too, reared and strained at the bit. In vain his Highness 
 endeavoured to pacify the frightened animal, which 
 plunged wildly forward between the men who had rushed 
 to save the crown. The charger's forelegs became en- 
 tangled in the long silken cords which hung limp and 
 useless from the archway, and in an instant horse and 
 rider were struggling on the ground, with the crown 
 crushed beneath them. 
 
 A brief scene of the utmost confusion ensued ; the 
 other princes' steeds, affrighted too, reared and kicked 
 violently, while the panic-stricken mob surged forward. 
 An arquebusier by mistake discharged his weapon, and 
 some one in the crowd raised a cry of " Murder ! " 
 
 " Silence ! silence ! " cried Prince Friedrich loudly, as, 
 aided by his attendants, he freed himself from the 
 struggling horse. 
 
 " Silence ! See, it is nothing ! I am unhurt, and even 
 poor Warflame is none the worse," he said, as he stroked 
 the charger, who now stood quietly, though with wild 
 eyes and trembling flanks. 
 
 " And now, my lords ! " he cried, turning to the other 
 cavaliers, " now let us ride on apace, for her Highness will 
 be disturbed by our absence." He remounted and rode 
 rapidly onwards, followed by the princes. 
 
 The Lady Elizabeth, in her gilded coach, had seen 
 nothing of all this. She was smiling serenely, and, when 
 Prince Friedrich appeared at her carriage-door, she rallied 
 him gaily on his dallying. And so the cortege passed on 
 its way right merrily; but there was a shadow on the 
 souls of many who had beheld the ungainly incident, 
 and men whispered that Destiny had sent a warning of 
 disaster to Heidelberg that day. 
 
 Slowly the coach ascended the steep, narrow road from 
 the town to the castle, but at length the first drawbridge 
 was reached, and in thunderous voices the cannon pro- 
 claimed that the new Princess Palatine had entered the
 
 HER NEW HIGHNESS PALATINE 25 
 
 precincts of her sumptuous stronghold. The splendid 
 train wound its way to the inner keep. At the second 
 drawbridge Elizabeth was greeted with a flare of trumpets, 
 and as her coach rumbled under the ancient stone arch- 
 way, salvo upon salvo of cannon rent the air, and the 
 sound flew on the wings of Echo and rolled in a hundred 
 phantom salutes through the valley between the long, 
 low hills. 
 
 Now came the moment whereon the Countess Juliane 
 had waited in such yearning of spirit. Ceremony's iron 
 hand had lain heavy upon the mother's heart, and this 
 same dull tyrant had ordained that she should greet her 
 son's wife only after the bride had crossed the castle's 
 threshold. Juliane had longed to welcome the Lady 
 Elizabeth at the door of the Saalbau, but Ceremony had 
 leagued with another tyrant, Custom, and had decreed 
 that the meeting-place should be in the Hall of Mirrors. 
 And so the Countess-Dowager, at the head of a bevy of 
 princesses, stood waiting in the centre of the hall. Below, 
 at the door of the Saalbau, Elizabeth was received by the 
 first nobles of the land, and was escorted in state up the 
 winding stairway. 
 
 The Lord-Marshal entered the hall first. He smote 
 the marbled floor three times with his staff of office, and 
 proclaimed in ringing tones the arrival of : " The Lady 
 Elizabeth, Princess of England, Scotland, Ireland, and 
 France, Countess Palatine, our gracious Lord Friedrich's 
 most noble spouse." 
 
 For an instant Elizabeth Stuart stood on the threshold, 
 while the assembled princesses and ladies of high degree 
 bent low in ceremonious greeting. Her Highness re- 
 sponded with a profound obeisance, but her eyes sought 
 the tall, dark-robed figure which stood immovable in the 
 midst of the bowing group. Elizabeth stepped forward and 
 again bent low, this time only to the Countess Juliane, 
 and there shone on her face the magic of that slow smile 
 for which thousands of gallant men have died, which 
 poets of all centuries have sung, and which haunts the 
 world's memory long after the doomed race of Stuart has
 
 26 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 perished. And the Countess Juliane, touched by the 
 sweet witchery of Elizabeth Stuart's smile, defying Cere- 
 mony and banishing Custom, came forward with hands 
 outstretched. 
 
 " Welcome ! welcome, madame ! " she said aloud. And 
 drawing Elizabeth to her heart, she murmured brokenly : 
 " Ah ! my child, be good to him, for all his soul is yours 
 to make or mar." 
 
 " I love him well, madame ma mere," Elizabeth 
 whispered back ; " and, if God wills it, I shall be for ever 
 his faithful wife and right good friend." 
 
 " God help you to it, madame ma fille," Juliane 
 answered solemnly.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 HEIDELBERG 
 
 " Le repos est un meuble qui ne se trouve pas es grandes cours oh 
 la foule et 1'embarras habitent ! " SPANHEIM. 
 
 THE first few days of Elizabeth Stuart's sojourn in 
 Heidelberg were restless with continuous pageants 
 and merrymakings, and she could have found it in 
 her heart to wish for some quiet hours when she could 
 forget that she was the first player in a great drama, a 
 little span of time wherein she could be but a young and 
 happily wedded wife and not a princess of political im- 
 portance. Indeed, the eyes of all Europe scrutinised the 
 new Princess Palatine, for she was the living link between 
 Protestant England and Reformed Germany. The Cal- 
 vinists regarded her as one on a side path towards salva- 
 tion, and if she were not walking in the narrow and only 
 way, at least she was approaching thereunto ; for the 
 Church of England, though unfortunately Lutheran in 
 doctrine, was yet an ally of the English Puritans or 
 Calvinists, those bulwarks of the ship of God. The 
 Lutherans looked to her as to one of their own faith who 
 would protect them from their hated brethren in Christ, 
 the Calvinists. The Catholic world viewed her as a new 
 power of evil, as a worldly strength gained by the heretics, 
 and yet they watched narrowly, for, Anne of Denmark 
 having returned to the only fold of the Catholic Shepherd, 
 it might fall out that so young a princess had inherited 
 a little of her mother's bias towards Rome. In Austria's 
 vision the balance of European power was dangerously 
 listed to the Protestant side by this union. France 
 viewed the matter calmly, as, at present, her interests 
 were not deeply involved. Spain cast glances of sombre
 
 28 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 hatred towards Heidelberg, for it had been the dream of 
 her most astute politicians to unite the widower Philip III. 
 and Elizabeth Stuart, and thus establish the right of 
 Spain to the Kingdom of England. In this scheme lay 
 increase of power for Spain and the stamping out of 
 heresy in the British Isles. Anne of Denmark had striven 
 to promote the match, partly because she was secretly a 
 Catholic, but chiefly because she yearned with all the 
 beautiful instincts of the ambitious mother's heart to 
 see her daughter a Queen. Anne had been willing to 
 give her child to the hereditary enemy of Denmark, 
 Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden anything better 
 than that this daughter of kings should wed a paltry 
 German prince ! 
 
 " My daughter to be Goody Palsgrave ! " she had cried. 
 " Perish the thought, dear heart ! " This to the British 
 Solomon, most ungainly, sure, of all the " dear hearts " 
 which the whimsies of wifely nomenclature have endowed 
 with this name ! 
 
 But " dear heart James " had proved obstinate ; and 
 though he coquetted with Spain, and wrote letters to 
 France for the affiancing of his Elizabeth with the young 
 Louis XIII., though he even waxed eloquent on his 
 fatherly love prompting him to keep his daughter unwed 
 to be a future virgin queen an Elizabeth II. of England 
 he had really always meant to give her to the Prince 
 Palatine. And so he sent her off at last, as the fair link 
 of Protestantism, God's chosen vessel, and armed with 
 strict injunctions to give precedence to none save queens 
 and empresses, an she chanced to meet such in life's path. 
 So the sweet youth of Elizabeth Stuart was heavily 
 weighted by political considerations ; yet if she wearied 
 sometimes of her overwhelming role she gave no sign 
 thereof, and seemed a right merry, gracious lady, enjoying 
 to the full the cup of love and happiness which life held 
 to her lips. 
 
 The wedding festivities ended with a grand tourney, 
 recalling the chivalrous days of old ; but the spirit of the 
 age was far different from that which drew the valiant
 
 HEIDELBERG 29 
 
 to the lists in bygone centuries. No longer did each 
 knight seek honourable advancement by mighty deeds of 
 prowess ; no longer was the guerdon the favour of some fair 
 lady, or the achievement of renown and chivalrous fame. 
 In the seventeenth century the prizes were large sums of 
 money; and though the tourney was a sport involving 
 a certain degree of personal risk, and demanding good 
 horsemanship, courage, and skill, yet was it withal but a 
 charming conceit, a graceful mumming to adopt the rules 
 of chivalry and play at the manners of knightly days. 
 Yet chivalry is an instinct of the human heart, and 
 especially of young, ardent, and enamoured hearts, and 
 the princes and nobles at Heidelberg played their parts 
 with zest. Already Elizabeth Stuart had conquered a 
 small army of impassioned votaries ; it was ever her 
 destiny to inspire devotion, and not a few of those who 
 had seen her enter her town of Heidelberg had secretly 
 vowed her a romantic fealty. And here at the tourney 
 they might offer her their homage without fear of seeming 
 importunate. By the rules of chivalry they were bound 
 to lay the reward of their success at the feet of some 
 fair lady, bound to offer to a woman this token of their 
 worship of womanhood. 
 
 Mistress Anne Dudley, her Highness's lady-in-waiting 
 and close friend, had been besieged by gallants, who begged 
 to be told what would be her Highness's colours for that 
 day ; and finding Mistress Anne but too discreet, the 
 gentlemen had not scrupled to invoke the aid of the 
 Princess's tiring- women. But these damsels, standing in 
 awe of Mistress Anne's displeasure, had also proved obdur- 
 ate ; and none knowing what were her Highness's colours, 
 many knights had ridden forth without silken scarves 
 across their breasts, or rosettes to deck their helmets. 
 
 A vast concourse of gaily clad townsfolk stood against 
 the barriers round the lists, and there was not wanting 
 in eager sightseers from the countryside, whose peasant 
 dress added to the varied collection of quaint costume. 
 By her new Highness Palatine's own desire, all who came 
 were to be permitted to see what they could of the jousting.
 
 30 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Must you charm even the villeins by your sweet 
 thought for them, beloved ? " Prince Friedrich had asked 
 when the Lady Elizabeth had proffered this request. 
 
 " Her Highness is but too full of gracious con- 
 descension," had grumbled Count Schomberg, her lord- 
 marshal. " It will be a hard task to arrange for all the 
 rabble to be allowed to peep at the lists." 
 
 Yet Count Schomberg had been easily silenced by a 
 glance from fair Mistress Anne Dudley, who had stolen 
 his heart when he went into England with his Highness. 
 Thus it fell out that a great crowd stood and watched the 
 jousting, and the Lady Elizabeth was lauded as the most 
 gracious lady in all the world. 
 
 In the centre of the long wooden gallery which had 
 been built round the lists, her Highness and her ladies 
 were seated beneath a wide, crimson, silken canopy. The 
 Lady Harrington was there, the new Princess Palatine's 
 former governess and faithful friend ; my Lord Harrington 
 too, a grave and learned nobleman, who had been one of 
 the brightest ornaments of the Elizabethan Court, and 
 had dedicated his life to the service of Queen Elizabeth's 
 godchild, Elizabeth Stuart. For James had chosen his 
 mother's murderess to be godmother to his eldest daughter. 
 True, Queen Elizabeth had been his own godmother, but 
 that had been in the vanished days of Scotch and English 
 pseudo-friendship; and when James prayed her to be 
 " gossip and name-mither to the bairn," Marie Stuart's 
 blood cried unavenged to Heaven. James had the accom- 
 modating memory of the wise statesman ; but alack ! an 
 God had not granted to the human heart the trick of 
 forgetting, who could e'er be gay ? 
 
 And right merry was the company beneath the crimson 
 dais at the Heidelberg tournament that June morning. 
 Mistress Anne Dudley was there, her soft brown eyes 
 a-smile, and her fair, fragile face a-blush at the whispers of 
 stalwart Count Schomberg. The young Countess Amalia 
 Solms stood near, a trifle awkward and Teutonic perhaps, 
 yet like some well-bred mare of a heavy race, florid and 
 comfortable. Then there were Princess Charlotte of the
 
 HEIDELBERG 31 
 
 Palatine, Prince Friedrich's sister; and the Princess 
 Catherine. The Countess Juliane had pleaded fatigue, 
 she who usually never owned herself weary ; but already 
 King James's injunctions to his daughter anent precedence 
 had achieved a certain coolness between the Electress- 
 Dowager and her new Highness Palatine. Besides, Juliane 
 feared and disliked tourneys, as all the world knew. 
 
 So only youth and joy were present on that summer 
 morning, save my Lord of Harrington and his lady ; but 
 the happiness which shone from Elizabeth's eyes seemed 
 to have banished the shadow of years from her devoted 
 friends' souls, and both my lord and my lady jested and 
 revelled with the zest of youth. 
 
 His Highness Prince Friedrich entered the lists, eager 
 to exhibit his skill and courage to his beloved. He wore 
 splendid armour, wrought in finest steel and inlaid with 
 gold by one of those patient craftsmen of Niirnberg who 
 followed faithfully the traditions of the goodly armourer, 
 Master Peter Vischer. Upon Friedrich's breast a scarf 
 of azure silk and on his helmet a little ribbon of sky-blue 
 betrayed to the envious gallants that this was Elizabeth's 
 colour. Twenty times was his Highness victorious, for 
 twenty brave knights were unhorsed by his mighty lance ; 
 but Prince Christian the younger of Anhalt robbed his 
 Highness of the first prize, for twenty-three times the 
 heralds proclaimed him victor, and twenty-three purses of 
 gold did the Lady Elizabeth bestow on her young kinsman. 
 The stripling's prowess had won the favour of the crowd, 
 and when for the twenty-third time he kneeled before 
 her Highness to receive the prize, a loud, enthusiastic 
 shout went up. And sure he made a gallant figure as he 
 kneeled bareheaded, slight and almost girlish, with his 
 light straw-coloured hair ruffled from his helmet's rude 
 touch, his face flushed, and his blue eyes ablaze. Hitter 
 Christel they had dubbed him to distinguish him from 
 his father, the aged Prince Christian of Anhalt. And 
 " Long live Ritter Christel ! " they cried right lustily. 
 
 " Methinks you are a very valorous knight, my lord ! " 
 her Highness laughed, as she handed him the prize for
 
 32 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the twenty-third time. " A valiant knight, and a most 
 wealthy gentleman ! " 
 
 " Ah ! mock me not, madame," he said in a low voice, 
 " I would fain win renown in more earnest battles, and all 
 I won I would lay at your feet, sweet cousin. But now 
 I have a prayer to make. Wilt grant it, cousin ? " 
 
 " Ritter Christel, Ritter Christel," she answered, laugh- 
 ing, " dost crave another purse of gold ? " 
 
 " Nay, madame, but the honour of bearing your colours 
 for ever on my breast and on my helmet ; no gold can 
 buy such proud happiness," he said. 
 
 " My lord ! " she cried, as Prince Friedrich mounted 
 the steps from the lists, " my lord, a gallant knight craves 
 the honour of bearing my colours for ever and a day, as 
 they say in the fairy stories ! Have I your permission 
 to grant him this ? " 
 
 " God knows, madame, we all wear your colours hidden 
 in our hearts ; so why should not my cousin here chal- 
 lenge the world with them on his helmet ? " he answered, 
 laying his hand affectionately on the kneeling youth's 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Why, then, Ritter Christel," she cried, laughing, " I 
 bestow my favour on you ! " Tearing a sky-blue ribbon 
 from her corsage, she held it out to Prince Christian. 
 He caught her hand and laid a kiss upon it ; then 
 springing up, he bound the ribbon on his arm, saying : 
 " Till death ! " 
 
 So the long summer day passed in joustings and merry- 
 makings, tilting at the ring, and feats of arms. In the 
 evening after the banquet a fine pageant took place in 
 the moonlit gardens, and, for fear false Cynthia should 
 bestow but few white rays that night, torches and lamps 
 had been set among the flowers to light the revels. It 
 was a masque, written by my Lord Achatius d'Hona; 
 and though it matched not the gay beauty of good Master 
 Ben Jonson's masques, such as her Highness had known 
 at Whitehall, still it was a right merry piece, and rich 
 in eulogies of England's Pearl. There was Hercules in 
 a lion skin, shouldering his giant club, and offering
 
 HEIDELBERG 33 
 
 Elizabeth the homage of the strength of the world ; Mars, 
 god of war, kneeled defeated before her ; Orpheus laid a 
 golden lute at her feet ; a bearded figure of Neptune, 
 followed by dainty mermaids and grim men of the sea, 
 swore fealty and service to her ; the nine Muses pro- 
 claimed her to be their long-sought sister, the tenth 
 Muse, and greater than themselves ; while Jason, in the 
 person of Prince Friedrich himself, spoke some noble 
 verses, telling how he, the new Jason, would tame not 
 only fire-breathing bulls, as did his Greek prototype, but 
 that he would conquer all the world for the guerdon of 
 her smile. Prince Christian the younger of Anhalt, with 
 sandaled feet and winged heels, appeared as Mercury, 
 having left the service of the gods to be in future the 
 messenger of the fairest of all goddesses, Elizabeth Stuart, 
 he avowed. 
 
 At length the mumming ceased, and the ladies resumed 
 their black-velvet masks, fearful of the freshening evening 
 breeze which had sprung up and, like some over-bold 
 lover, sought to ravish the roses of the ladies' cheeks. 
 
 In vain Scultetus, his Highness's preacher, let it be 
 known that even this frivolous evening must close with 
 prayer in the castle chapel. Youth and the fragrant 
 June night conspired together to banish gravity and 
 elude sleep, and Scultetus preached but to drowsy dow- 
 agers and weary greybeards. Youth was abroad in the 
 castle gardens, and wotted not, for one night, of Calvinistic 
 preachings. 
 
 Even honest Count Schomberg had wandered away, 
 and it was no wonder that Mistress Anne Dudley was 
 amissing. There were ladies with tall lace rebatoes round 
 their graceful necks, and huge fardingales round their 
 waists, with underskirts so heavily broidered that they 
 fell like metal bells to the ankles, and displayed the 
 long, square-toed, high-heeled shoes and the ribbon "roses" 
 sparkling with gems. These ladies wore little velvet 
 caps, bejewelled and beplumed, on their high-piled hair ; 
 or, an my lady was in the very newest mode, she had 
 simplified her hairdress, to allow of her wearing the 
 
 c
 
 34 
 
 high-crowned hat, with sweeping plume and jewelled 
 buckle, which was copied from my lord's headgear. 
 Beside these ladies there sauntered gallants in velvet 
 cloaks, slashed doublets, and trunks a-puffed to so enor- 
 mous a size that below them, from knee to ankle, the 
 leg in its silken hose looked ridiculously elegant. They 
 had stiff, upstanding pickadells around their necks, and 
 lovelocks which just reached to these wheel-like lace 
 and linen collars. 
 
 Thus attired, my lords and ladies wandered through 
 the moonlit gardens gardens as straightly gowned as 
 themselves, with formal flower-beds, clipped bushes, and 
 fountains where even the water seemed to have caught 
 the mode of stiff precision which was the elegance of the 
 age. And yet the poetry of the summer night sighed 
 through the trim garden, the thrilling silence and mystery 
 of night. The sweetness of the roses from her Highness's 
 rosery, which Friedrich, prince of lovers, had caused to be 
 planted for her even ere she came out of England, was 
 wafted deliciously on the still air by some soft breeze, 
 some zephyr imperceptible save to the vagrant fragrances 
 ever seeking a carrier with whom to wander out into the 
 world. 
 
 On to the wide terrace before the Friedrich's Bau 
 came a tall figure, slim with youth's grace in spite of 
 fardingale and heavy skirt, a woman masked in black 
 velvet, and wearing from her shoulders a full black- 
 velvet cloak. She came slowly onwards to the low para- 
 pet, and leaning there, looked down into the silent valley, 
 where the moon had magicked the river Neckar to a 
 silver pathway, a placid stream of light flowing through 
 the dark lowland. The moon also sent her rays like 
 mysterious messengers over the long, low hills beyond 
 the valley, while on the terrace she wrought strange 
 arabesques out of the shadows from the castle. The 
 woman waited on some one surely, for she turned her 
 head ever and anon as though listening for some well- 
 loved foot-tread to break the enchanted silence. 
 
 Master Scultetus, his preaching finished, betook him-
 
 HEIDELBERG 35 
 
 self from the chapel towards his lodgings in the Biblio- 
 thek Bau, and the soft night air seemingly whispered 
 some sweet message even to his harsh heart ; perhaps 
 some memory of youth disturbed the dry cobwebs of 
 theology which networked his mind ; and he, too, paused 
 near the vaulted passage leading from the courtyard to 
 the terrace. As if in a frame the picture lay before 
 him : the little turret at the end of the parapet clear in 
 the wan moonlight ; beyond, the long line of the hills, 
 dark and eerie against the deep night blue of the 
 sky ; and like a visible presence, the rich fragrance of 
 the roses from her Highness's rosery came to greet the 
 stern theologian. For a moment the witchery of the 
 night held him in thrall how beautiful it was; how 
 beautiful ! The swish of silken skirts upon the stone 
 paving of the terrace broke in on his reverence's pon- 
 dering ; the sound of a hurried footfall summoned curi- 
 osity and that instinct for interference in the actions of 
 others, which is so noble a companion to Faith in the 
 souls of the godly, came and banished all useless admira- 
 tion of Nature's beauty from Scultetus' thoughts. 
 
 " How now ! lovers philandering ? I must look to this," 
 he muttered, and, proceeding a few steps onward, he 
 ensconced himself in the deep shadow of the archway 
 leading on to the terrace. He peered across the moon- 
 light with his shortsighted eyes. Yes, a man in a 
 sombre mantle stood beside a woman's figure leaning on 
 the parapet near the little turret. Scultetus, if he had 
 nearsighted eyes had sharp hearing, and also his soul's 
 vision was wide with unclean suspicions and distrust of 
 human nature. He rejoiced in the Lord at having sur- 
 prised a wanton couple; he was verily uplifted at the 
 divine leading which had brought him forth to punish 
 such carnal triflers. Meanwhile, being a man of prudent 
 habits, he decided to listen to the lovers' talk, and to con- 
 found them afterwards with a repetition of their lewd say- 
 ings. For a few moments the lovers were silent, leaning 
 there side by side against the parapet ; then his reverence's 
 patience was rewarded, and he heard the man speak.
 
 36 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Ah ! heart of mine," he said, " what rapture to be near 
 thee ! Methinks it is flame that thy sweet lips breathe 
 into my every vein in each kiss." 
 
 " Beloved, beloved," she murmured low. 
 
 " My queen, my soul, love of my life ! can such delicious 
 hours be given to mortal man ? Thou inakest me hi 
 truth a god, a god by thy passion, sweeting ! Thou makest 
 me proud for all eternity by thy kiss ! " 
 
 " Ah ! dear my lord, I would that Cupid could teach 
 me a hundred ways of love to make thee blest ! " she 
 said, and even the listening Calvinist thrilled at the 
 tenderness in the woman's voice, that voice which he 
 seemed to know so well. 
 
 " Yet love is short, they say ; but sure for us it cannot 
 be, for in all the ages none have loved as we ! Ah ! no, 
 with us it is no trance of passion. We shall always love, 
 and glory in the delights of love ! " He drew her close, 
 and, lifting the little flouncing of black velvet which hung 
 from her mask, he kissed her lips while she lay weak and 
 trembling in his arms. 
 
 " Now," thought Scultetus, " now I can confront these 
 wantons. Unhand yourselves, ye votaries of lust ! " 
 he thundered, coming forth from the shadow. " What ? 
 Beneath her new Highness Palatine's own windows 
 you would profane the world with such vile sayings ! " 
 The lovers sprang apart, startled at the preacher's 
 denunciation. 
 
 " Sir, you forget your place," the man cried haughtily. 
 
 " My Lord Friedrich ! " stammered the discomfited 
 divine. 
 
 "Yes, Master Scultetus," said the woman, laughing. 
 " Our dear Lord Friedrich and " she plucked her mask 
 from her face, "and his faithful spouse, Elizabeth of 
 England." 
 
 " I crave your Highness's pardon madame, I 
 knew not I did not recognise my lord, I am 
 abashed " 
 
 " You must have known my voice, sir, an you lis- 
 tened, which no doubt you did," cried Friedrich scorn-
 
 HEIDELBERG 37 
 
 fully. " I beg you begone, sir ; I like not listeners in my 
 house ! " 
 
 " Ah, good my lord," said her Highness, coming for- 
 ward. " His reverence but errs through too much zeal ! 
 In the code of stern moralists perchance, there is no 
 room for wedded love ; or rather is it not the custom for 
 a wedded couple to play at lovers thus ? " 
 
 " Madame, at Whitehall such may be the case, but " 
 began Scultetus with asperity. 
 
 " Sir, this is too much ! " his Highness cried. " You 
 venture, then, to disparage " 
 
 " Sweet heart," Elizabeth broke in, " his reverence sure 
 does not know your voice when you are speaking such 
 soft words, he only knows the tone of argument. Now, 
 enough ; good night, Master Scultetus," and she bowed 
 her head, dismissing the crestfallen guardian of morals, 
 who, making profound if awkward obeisance, hurriedly 
 withdrew. 
 
 " Nay ! I am wroth, dear love ! " Prince Friedrich said ; 
 " that fool preacher has broken the spell of beauty which 
 was over us ! It was sacrilege, for such rapture is a sacra- 
 ment of love " 
 
 " Be not wroth ; let us not waste this delicious hour 
 with angry thoughts. Come, dear my lord, forget the 
 fierce preacher, and let us tarry a brief while longer 
 here." She drew him to her, and beneath her kiss he 
 forgot preacher and anger and the world itself. 
 
 Suddenly from below in the gardens there came the 
 echo of a song. The lovers turned to listen. 
 
 " It is Christian singing," whispered Prince Friedrich, 
 " Christian, whom you call Hitter Christel, toi charmeuse 
 de tous cceurs ! " 
 
 " Harken ! my lord, it is an English lay he sings," she 
 whispered back. 
 
 " Oh ! eyes that pierce into the purest heart ! 
 
 Oh ! hands that hold the highest thoughts in thrall ! 
 Oh ! wit that weighs the depth of all desart ! 
 
 Oh ! sense that shows the secret sweet of all ! 
 The heaven of heavens with heavenly power preserve thee, 
 Love but thyself, and give me leave to serve thee."
 
 38 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 The young voice rose in a passionate strain, and with 
 a depth of truth and yearning which sent an added 
 thrill to the lovers on the terrace. 
 
 " Poor Christel ! he sings his passion for thee sings it 
 to the stars as he may not sing it to thee," Prince Fried- 
 rich whispered. 
 
 " To the stars, yes," she answered ; but she smiled to 
 herself, for she knew that Christel sang below in the 
 rose garden, and that she alone must have heard him 
 singing had she been where he supposed her, in her 
 chamber above, whose windows looked out over the 
 terrace and the rosery.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 QUIET DAYS 
 
 " Ich kniee vor Euch als getreuer Vasall, 
 Pfalzgrafin, schonste der Frauen ! 
 Befehlet, so streit' ich mit Kaiser und Reich, 
 Befehlet, so will ich fur Euch, fur Euch 
 Die Welt in Fetzen zerhauen ! " 
 
 JOSEPH VICTOR VON SCHEPFEL. 
 
 NOW came a time of quiet at Heidelberg, a sweet- 
 ness of unhurried days. The princes and nobles 
 had returned to their various domains; only Prince 
 Christian of Anhalt Hitter Christel, as the whole Court 
 now named him only Christel lingered, and none found 
 it in their hearts to wish him gone. He was so young 
 and gay, and withal so gentle and thoughtful, and men 
 said that his hopeless love for the Lady Elizabeth had 
 taught him a wonderful goodness ; that love had made 
 of him a saint ; and that whereas unrequited love usually 
 turns a man's soul bitter, his seemed beautified and 
 sweetened by his unselfish devotion. Even the Countess 
 Juliane smiled at his ardent service of her new Highness 
 Palatine ; none could blame so pure a flame it seemed. 
 There was nothing of the lovesick swain about him, no 
 hint of puerile gallantries, only a glad devotion, an un- 
 stinted giving. And Elizabeth Stuart smiled at his love, 
 accepting the homage of his worship unheedingly, for all 
 her thoughts were given to Prince Friedrich. Albeit 
 without seeking it, she needs must charm whoe'er came 
 within the radiance of her smile and the magic of those 
 strange, dark eyes, haunted as they seemed by the presage 
 of some tragic destiny. There was something elusive 
 mysterious about her, some hint of romance which 
 enthralled the whole world. She had abundantly that
 
 40 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 fateful charm which Marie Stuart had wielded to her un- 
 doing a gift of God or of Satan to the Stuart race. This 
 living magic had seemed dead in James I. of England, 
 and men seeing the uncouth king, recalled dark stories of 
 his birth and how it had been whispered that Queen Marie 
 of Scots had borne a dead child at Edinburgh Castle on 
 June 1 9th, 1566, and that a peasant's brat had been placed 
 in the ancient oaken cradle of Scotland's kings. But 
 Elizabeth Stuart gave the lie to these fond tales, for the 
 hereditary charm worked mighty potent in her. 
 
 What is this haunting charm which is given to a feAv 
 mortals? Beauty may be added to it, or withheld; it 
 is not powerful intellect which makes it, nor virtue, nor 
 kindness; it is not always the desire to please, though 
 usually les grandes charmeuses needs must throw their 
 spell over all, they are compelled to enchant the villein 
 or the scullery wench ; but yet, no effort of mind, no 
 striving, can achieve charm. It is some intangible magic ; 
 and those who have had it do not alone haunt their con- 
 temporaries, but through the ages their names conjure 
 devotion and thrill the souls of posterity. With the 
 Stuarts there is the glamour of the lost cause which calls 
 forth the chivalry of all generous souls ; there is the tragic 
 destiny of a doomed race which touches the fount of 
 pitiful reverence for sorrow which dwells in that strange, 
 inconsequent god, the human heart. Yet other races 
 have perished, other causes have been lost, but the 
 Stuarts are enshrined in all minds as the most charmful 
 beings of history. And long before the doom fell, long 
 before the cause was vanquished for ever, the magic 
 worked, until even the name of Stuart seemed a lure 
 for the devotion of all men ! 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart was the incarnation of this compelling 
 fascination. In Germany it was said that Heidelberg 
 was the new Court of Love ; but even the Calvinists 
 could not smirch the purity of Elizabeth and her house- 
 hold ; for though she banished austerity, she kept honour 
 and noble decorum at her side ; and though she loved 
 laughter, music, poetry, and dancing, she forgot not prayer ;
 
 QUIET DAYS 41 
 
 though she lavished money on clothes and merry- 
 making, her hand was never empty when the poor or 
 hungry came to her, nor her heart too glad in her own 
 joy to withhold the good sunshine of her tenderness from 
 those who mourned. Each day the people of Heidelberg 
 grew to love her more, and her sayings were repeated far 
 and near. It mattered not that her English retainers 
 were boastful and often insolent ; the people said that if 
 her Highness knew it she would reprove them ; but for 
 the most part they withheld their complaints from her 
 for fear of casting a shadow on her happiness. Yet, on 
 all human happiness shadows must fall, and the brighter 
 the horizon the more intolerable is the smallest cloud. 
 Two clouds were on Elizabeth's sky : King James's in- 
 junctions concerning precedence, and the broils of her 
 English attendants. 
 
 My Lady of Harrington still tarried at Heidelberg, and 
 she counselled Elizabeth to overlook her attendants' 
 quarrels; but Count Schomberg was much concerned 
 and pressed for the dismissal of the turbulent English- 
 men. 
 
 One summer day Elizabeth sat in one of the terrace 
 turrets. Her embroidery frame was before her, but her 
 hands lay a trifle listlessly on her knee, though ever and 
 anon she caressed her pet monkey, who sat close beside 
 her on the stone seat of the turret. 
 
 " Art weary, sweet child ? " the Lady of Harrington 
 inquired. 
 
 " Nay, not weary, but this morning Schomberg came to 
 me with a long history of the misdoings of Sir Andrew 
 Keith. It would seem that some of the burghers in the 
 High Street jostled him, and he called them greasy Ger- 
 mans and beer louts. By an ill chance one among them 
 had a few words English, enough to translate his taunt. 
 They rated him back, and swords were drawn." 
 
 " Good lack ! madame," said my Lord of Harrington, 
 " 'tis a scurvy trick of Schomberg to annoy you with 
 such tattle. A street broil means nothing and is very 
 usual."
 
 42 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Indeed, my lord," cried Mistress Anne hotly, " Count 
 Schomberg is wise in telling this tale to her Highness. 
 I keep the wenches in good trim or we should have an 
 English faction and a German party in her Highness's 
 own tiring-room ! And it is insufferable if Sir Andrew 
 cannot bridle his tongue and keep his stable varlets in 
 order." 
 
 " Ah ! Anne, be not wroth ! Schomberg is right, and 
 my lord is right," said her Highness wearily. " I will 
 speak with Sir Andrew, and let it be known in the town 
 that he but lost that fiery member of his soul's com- 
 plexity, his temper, as my royal father called it. Hans 
 Steinberg ! " she called to a little page who stood near, 
 " summon Sir Andrew Keith to me here." 
 
 " Not now, madame," said my lord gravely, " this is not 
 the place." 
 
 " Tut, my lord," cried Elizabeth, a flash of anger hi her 
 sombre eyes, " it shall be where I will. Go, Hans, and 
 swiftly ! " She turned to Harrington, repentant as she 
 ever was when her quick mood had wounded any one : 
 " Forgive me, dear friend ; I am sorry to disobey you, but 
 let me this once do ray will," she said. She was like 
 some chidden child to her life-long friend and governor. 
 
 " Madame, you are no longer a child to be ruled by 
 me," he answered with a sigh. 
 
 " Alas ! no. Those were good days at Combe, and I 
 was mighty happy under your guidance ! I shall always 
 return to Combe always till the day of my death," she 
 said. 
 
 " Come, dear madame, no sad thoughts," said Lady 
 Harrington. " In truth you will often return to Combe, 
 and then you'll weary for Heidelberg." Her kind, quiet 
 voice, her whole being, was so restful in its homeliness ; 
 she always seemed the embodiment of the safety of the 
 commonplace, the comfortable security of everyday. 
 
 " In fact, as you used to say to me, dear lady," Eliza- 
 beth laughed, " there never was a little maiden who had 
 so much, and never one like me for always craving 
 more."
 
 QUIET DAYS 43 
 
 " That was when your Highness was a little maiden," 
 said Lady Harrington peacefully, as she matched the hue 
 of a silken skein against the brocade in her embroidery 
 frame. " Now your Highness is a grown woman, and a 
 wise, I trust." 
 
 " Nay, nay, a little maiden for you always," her 
 Highness said, and, leaning over, she kissed the elder 
 woman's healthy pink cheek. Lady Harrington stroked 
 Elizabeth's hand. 
 
 " Your silks are in a tangle again, dear child," she said. 
 
 " I always tangle the threads," her Highness answered 
 ruefully. " I am a little maiden still in that, you see." 
 
 ' Well, well, others besides little maidens tangle threads 
 in this world," Lady Harrington replied, with that touch 
 of homely wisdom which is the unconscious cynicism of 
 those dowered with the most uncommon of all the senses 
 common sense. 
 
 At this moment Hans Steinberg, the page, reappeared, 
 followed by Sir Andrew Keith. Elizabeth rose and 
 moved apart from the group in the turret. There was 
 nothing of the little maiden in her mien now, but a 
 dignity, a commanding manner which often came to her. 
 Her monkey followed her, and springing upon the low 
 parapet of the terrace, sat like some absurd old man, 
 playing with shaky, eager little fingers with a silken skein 
 of yellow thread which he had stolen from her Highness's 
 embroidery frame. She patted the little creature's head, 
 and then, turning to Sir Andrew, she said quietly : " How 
 now, sir ? Did my father send you out of England with 
 me as my master-of-horse, or as a swaggering swash- 
 buckler to offend my subjects in my town of Heidelberg ? " 
 
 " Your Highness cannot know the facts ! " cried Keith, 
 in an excited tone. He was a tall, lanky, red-haired 
 Scotsman, with harsh features and small, sharply glancing 
 blue eyes. He looked a man of iron, quiet and sober, but 
 those who knew him were aware that the quiet was a pit- 
 fall, and that he was fierce and passionate ; quick to un- 
 reasoning anger, and resentful as a small-minded woman 
 of slights which existed for the most part in his own
 
 44 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 suspicious mind. A loyal friend and a treacherous 
 enemy, a combination unusual in the rest of mankind, 
 but peculiar to the Highland Scotsman. He regarded 
 Elizabeth Stuart as his kinswoman because legend re- 
 corded that a Keith had wed a Stuart some ten genera- 
 tions back. He had come to England along with Robert 
 Carr, now preening himself at Whitehall as my Lord 
 Rochester ; and Keith, being a penniless youth, had 
 grabbed at the mastership-of-horse to her new Highness 
 Palatine. They had tried to oust him from his post as 
 soon as Elizabeth had arrived at Heidelberg, for he had 
 shown himself sulky and touchy on the journey hither ; 
 but he had clung to his office, and grasped all he could 
 of emoluments and perquisites. 
 
 He stood now before Elizabeth proudly, for such men 
 do not cringe, and reproof always raises the fierce pride in 
 them. There was a certain gaunt dignity about the man. 
 
 " Madame," he said, " your Highness would not have 
 me submit to rudeness from a German lout ? " 
 
 " Nay, sir, if incivility were intended ; but I would 
 have you know that such manners bring me disaffection 
 in my townspeople. Who can speak in your defence, 
 sir ? Who saw the quarrel ? " 
 
 "The Baron Falkenberg, his Highness's master-of- 
 horse, stood near, madame ; but I misdoubt me he will 
 side with his countryman an you question him. We are 
 strangers here you and I, madame," he said boldly. 
 
 " Strangers," she laughed. " Sir Andrew, strangers 
 may be better friends than kinsmen sometimes. Come, 
 vow me there shall be no more such fighting over trifles." 
 
 " Your Highness asks me to submit to German loons ? " 
 he cried hotly. 
 
 " Tut, man, German loons are peaceful citizens. I bid 
 you keep the peace," she said. 
 
 " You do not know the rights of it, madame," he 
 answered stubbornly. 
 
 " Well, here comes Falkenberg ; I will ask him myself, 
 sir." She beckoned the courtier to her side, and speaking 
 in French, as was her habit to her German subjects, for
 
 QUIET DAYS 45 
 
 she never mastered the German tongue thoroughly, she 
 said : " Monsieur de Falkenberg, Sir Andrew begs you 
 speak of what you saw yesterday in the High Street. 
 Was my countryman subjected to insolence ? " 
 
 Falkenberg hesitated ; he was no friend to Keith and 
 wished him gone, but he feared the turbulent Scotsman. 
 
 " Your Highness, I am not concerned in this matter," 
 he said at last. " It should be dealt with by Sir 
 Andrew's superior. Probably Count Schomberg is the 
 proper person." 
 
 " Sir, we are not bandying words like the first or second 
 writers in a merchant's counting-house," cried Keith. 
 " We cannot cope with your first in authority ! In Eng- 
 land, sir, we speak as one gentleman to another, not as 
 to who is in this or that office ! " 
 
 Falkenberg puffed himself out like some offended 
 rooster ; all the instinct of the German for office, autho- 
 rity, and correctness seemed to swell within him. His 
 eyes grew round, his face portentously solemn ; his 
 cheeks puffed till his mouth looked ridiculously small. 
 He was cursed with very short arms, and his comfort- 
 ably rounded person caused him to hold them always 
 a little curved, which gave him a more than naturally 
 pompous air. 
 
 "As master of his Highness's horse I am not in a 
 position to pronounce on the actions of her Highness's 
 master-of-horse," he said, and Prudence, that sour mis- 
 tress who directs most Germans' actions, lived in every 
 tone. Now it was not the man's words, but his attitude 
 towards life which maddened Keith. 
 
 " Falkenberg ! " he cried loudly, " you are a laughable 
 loon yourself." 
 
 " Sir Andrew ! " returned the other, " my honour for- 
 bids me to hear such words ! I beg to challenge " 
 
 " Oh ! the devil fly away with your honour ! " bawled 
 Keith. " Cannot you speak out like a cavalier ? " The 
 disputants each fell out of the French into their own 
 mother tongues Keith into broad, rough Scots, and 
 Falkenberg into Rhenish German. The quarrel grew
 
 46 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 loud, and my Lord of Harrington came forward out of 
 the terrace turret to still the flood of angry words. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! it is unseemly to brawl before her 
 Highness," he called. 
 
 But neither heeded him. Keith's rage was fairly let 
 loose, and Falkenberg was blustering and asserting his 
 own importance. It was an absurd scene, and her High- 
 ness stood by and laughed, for she could never resist 
 laughter when it came to her. Falkenberg made a 
 vigorous gesture with his short, thick arm ; Keith thought 
 it was a menaced blow, and, in an instant, both men had 
 drawn their swords and were fencing furiously. 
 
 The monkey sprang from the parapet and fled to 
 Elizabeth, hiding his strangely human face in the folds 
 of her ample skirts. At this moment Count Schomberg 
 appeared on the terrace. 
 
 "Hold!" he thundered. "Hold! you fools! Know 
 you not that her Highness is enceinte, and that this may 
 frighten her to her harm ? " He caught Falkenberg 
 by the cloak and dragged him back, while my Lord of 
 Harrington hung on Keith's sword arm. 
 
 Elizabeth leaned against the terrace parapet, her 
 sombre eyes were ablaze with anger, and her delicate 
 cheeks had flushed to the colour of a wild-rose petal. 
 Keith stood sullen and fierce in my lord's grasp ; 
 Falkenberg poured forth a torrent of German to Count 
 Schomberg; Lady Harrington attempted to support her 
 Highness, and Mistress Anne Dudley offered her a little 
 crystal flagon of potent essence. 
 
 " Remove these gentlemen, Schomberg," her Highness 
 cried, while she drew back haughtily from Lady Harring- 
 ton's encircling arm, and pushed away the flagon with a 
 trembling hand. 
 
 Half-a-dozen courtiers had arrived on the scene ; they 
 surrounded Keith and Falkenberg, and hurried them 
 through the archway from the terrace to the court- 
 yard. 
 
 " Come, madame, dear love, and rest," said Lady Har- 
 rington. "You feel no evil from this untoward noisi-
 
 QUIET DAYS 47 
 
 ness ? " But Elizabeth Stuart gave no answer to the 
 older lady's anxious queries. 
 
 " Count Schomberg ! " she said, and threw back her 
 head proudly. " Monsieur, who gave you leave to an- 
 nounce the state of my health to all the world ? How 
 do you know what is with me or what is not ? I forbid 
 mention of such things to me or of me ! " 
 
 " But, madame, think of the profound importance to 
 the whole Protestant cause which awaits this prince 
 as its champion," Count Schomberg said in a heavy, 
 pompous tone. 
 
 " Harken to me, monsieur," cried her Highness vehe- 
 mently. " If you all preach to me for ever of this prince, 
 e'en an it be a boy, I'll dress him as a maiden and teach 
 him to sew tuckers. That is," she added hastily, " if I 
 am enceinte, which I deny and which is also my affair 
 if lam!" 
 
 " Sweet madame, did I ne'er give you lessons in logic 
 at Combe ? " said Harrington, laughing. 
 
 Her Highness's swift anger was past, and she laughed 
 too. " Logic and men's wits ! Hey ! but I'll match my 
 unlogic against them and get the best of the bargain ! 
 And now, Count Schomberg, have my horses saddled. I 
 would ride out and practise my new falcon at a sham 
 quarry." 
 
 "Madame, I entreat! it is not safe for you to ride 
 thus constantly ! Rest and " 
 
 " Ah ! Schomberg, Schomberg ! an you say another 
 word I'll order a tilting bout and tilt at the ring myself. 
 For the nonce, sir, comprehend I am not enceinte!" 
 She laughed, and catching up her monkey, who had 
 cowered half-hidden in her skirts all the time, she hurried 
 away to change her gown for her green velvet riding- 
 dress. As she passed up the winding staircase of the Fried- 
 rich's Bau, they heard, through the open casements, how 
 she sang an absurd little lullaby to the small, wizened-faced 
 monkey, calling him her sweeting, her treasure, her dearest 
 son, and only child.
 
 48 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Yet it was a peaceful time in Heidelberg, in spite of 
 ripples on the surface caused by the Englishmen and by 
 the question of precedence. The river of life was smooth, 
 and political cross-currents only played beyond in the sea 
 of European action. The Hapsburg Rudolf II., scholar, 
 bibliophile, and lover of rare curios, had left his collec- 
 tion in the Hradcany at Prague, had left his unwieldy 
 empire of turbulent religious factions, and had gone to 
 his long rest in the year 1612. Matthias, his rebellious 
 brother, had succeeded him ; and, in the intervals of 
 warfare against the Turks and that daring adventurer, 
 Bethlem Gabor, was laying the foundation of bitter strife 
 by his refusal to recognise the Letter of Royal Protection 
 wrested by the Bohemian Protestants from poor, weak, 
 dreamy Emperor Antiquary Rudolf. England was much 
 occupied by my Lord of Essex's coming divorce trial, and 
 the Court was babbling of disgusting details and my Lord 
 of Rochester's hopes; was wondering why Sir Thomas 
 Overbury lay in the Tower, was whispering that they must 
 hush him as he knew dark secrets, anent Prince Henry's 
 death too ; the Court and its slobbering Solomon, thus 
 busy, played for the nonce no part in the European con- 
 cert. In France that amorous king, Henry IV., had 
 perished, and Louis XIII. was growing up under Marie 
 de Medici's care ; Sully, the noble statesman of a humor- 
 ous monarch, was living retired in his quiet country refuge 
 at Rosny, watching with grave eyes how Marie de Medici, 
 the Regent, squandered untold wealth on her Concinis, 
 and how politically she leaned ever more towards Spain 
 since the affiancing of Louis XIII. to the Infanta Anna. 
 It was the silence, the lull before the storm ; and at 
 Heidelberg it was very still. 
 
 The Lady Elizabeth went a-hunting, and danced in 
 the evening in the stately Mirror Gallery. Lord and Lady 
 Harrington still tarried at Heidelberg, and also Ritter 
 Christel, who followed her Highness wherever she went. 
 Friedrich himself took some part in the gay doings, 
 but he continued his studies in policy and statescrai't. 
 Master Scultetus, the grim theologian, was his teacher,
 
 QUIET DAYS 49 
 
 and daily he exhorted his Highness to be the champion 
 of the down-trodden Calvinists; daily he read to him 
 letters out of Bohemia, telling of ruined pastors ousted 
 from their parishes, of churches built by Protestant com- 
 munities now closed by Imperial mandate, of oppression 
 and misery. Sometimes he recounted strange prophesies 
 spoken by holy visionaries, of how a king would arise 
 another David to smite the unholy Goliath of Austria, 
 that servant of the High Priest of Antichrist. Scultetus 
 worked on the fresh soil of Friedrich's young mind, sow- 
 ing the seed of enthusiasm, and watering the sprouting 
 seedlings with a gentle rain of personal flattery. Religious 
 enthusiasm waxed strong, and beside that fast-springing 
 plant another flowering tree grew up Ambition. To 
 tend this last Scultetus called Love to his aid ; he said 
 that the Lady Elizabeth was a queen among women, 
 why should she not be the empress of a reformed 
 empire ? 
 
 " Man, where will you out with your dreams ? " cried 
 Friedrich. 
 
 " But, sir, has there not been an emperor among your 
 forbears ? And why not again ? An emperor a cham- 
 pion of pure life a helper of the oppressed a king of 
 the sweet and reasonable faith ? " murmured Scultetus. 
 
 " God wot ! master, you are dreaming ! and yet how 
 fair a dream ! " said the lover of Elizabeth Stuart. 
 
 " But the time is not yet," whispered the Calvinist. 
 " Work, my Lord Friedrich. Work and watch and pray, 
 that you may inherit the earth." 
 
 " Yes, master, for the glory of God ! " said Friedrich, 
 dreaming of Elizabeth as queen. 
 
 Who that knew her could help dreaming of her as of a 
 queen among women ? She was so beautiful, with her 
 great sombre brown eyes, her auburn hair, her pale 
 clear skin, where, on temple and breast, the blue 
 veins showed like some delicate tracery of youth's own 
 pencil ; her full, fresh lips, where lurked the magic of 
 her smile, whose sunshine wandered up from lip to brow 
 and lit the deep eyes to soft lustre. She was very tall 
 
 D
 
 50 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 and slight, yet with broad, majestic shoulders, which 
 supported the grand column of her neck and the long 
 line of her young full throat. She, who was a king's 
 daughter, looked a queen; and Friedrich, remembering 
 Anne of Denmark's scornful naming of her " Goody 
 Palsgrave," sighed, and wished he had been born a king 
 to crown her queen. What mattered it that honest 
 Schomberg complained she had not the proper dignity 
 of an electress ? She was so young in her impetuosity, 
 so merry, so proud, and yet so clinging to those she 
 trusted to the Harringtons, to Mistress Anne Dudley, 
 to Schomberg himself. Schomberg opined that she 
 trusted too easily. "Madame is so facile," he was for 
 ever saying. Her own heart was full of sunshine, 
 and it seemed that she could not suffer a shadow to fall 
 on any one who was near her. She hated the disagree- 
 ables of life more than other women dreaded them a 
 little, too and Schomberg said that madame was weak ; 
 but it was not weakness, for when she wanted anything 
 she desired it violently, and was strong to achieve her 
 will. Only for the smaller matters of life she was a 
 little indifferent, and, feeling the longing of others for 
 trifles, she must for ever be giving content by gratifying 
 wishes. Money was a name to her. What ? was that 
 poor wretch sad because he lacked a house ? That 
 damsel weeping because she could not wed her penniless 
 swain ? " Quick ! my casket where the English gold 
 is hid quick ! Let me make these sad ones merry 
 again." And then her drolleries, for out of sheer gaiety 
 and quick wit she was mighty droll at times ; said 
 outrageous things which startled her hearers to laughter 
 and alarm ; yet she was never coarse, for the fire of her 
 true merriment burned out any stain of lewdness which 
 might otherwise have spoiled the quaint quip. Such 
 names, too, as she had for all ! " Old Vinegar Snout," she 
 called Scultetus ; " Pig's Face " was that magnificent, over- 
 perfumed, ostentatious ambassador Hay, become my Lord 
 of Doncaster by King James's favour, and allowed to 
 journey right often to Heidelberg in order to see Eliza-
 
 QUIET DAYS 51 
 
 beth, whom he adored. " The Old Apple Woman " she 
 named my Lady of Harrington, offering her a booth in 
 the High Street of Heidelberg wherein " to ply the trade 
 wherefore the Almighty had created her," so her High- 
 ness said. Friedrich himself she spoke of as her " Nigger 
 Drakelet " because of his swarthy skin and his duck-like 
 waddle, she averred. Schomberg was " Monsieur Sans 
 Ducat, Mare'chal de 1'Ennui " ; Anne Dudley " Madame la 
 Marechale Unwed." After a solemn wrangle anent pre- 
 cedence, which had set discord between Juliane, Friedrich, 
 and Schomberg, she would walk into the banqueting-hall 
 holding her monkey at arm's length before her, and call- 
 ing out gravely : " See, madame ma mere ! His splendid 
 Highness Jack says he takes precedence of me ! Of a 
 truth, his royal father wills it ! " Then, when Juliane 
 looked wounded at her levity, down was plumped Master 
 Jack, and down went the Lady Elizabeth on her knees 
 before the old Electress, and it was: "Madame ma mere, 
 what does it signify ? You take precedence of my mother 
 because you gave me Friedrich, while she only gave me 
 myself ! " And she would kiss and cosset Juliane like a 
 little maiden at a loved mother's knee. When they 
 rode through Heidelberg, who would have recognised the 
 stately lady ? Or when foreign guests sojourned in the 
 castle, who would have believed this gracious, dignified 
 Princess to be the winsome trickster that she was ? 
 
 She had all the complexity of the spontaneous, all the 
 contradictions of a grand and generous nature. She could 
 be wayward as a silly child, wise and sensible as a grave 
 woman, facile to weakness (as Schomberg said), and deter- 
 mined as a warrior ; gentle and patient, and then a rough 
 word or a cruel saying would awaken a very devil of rage 
 in her, after the manner of her godmother-kinswoman, 
 Elizabeth of England of splendid memory. 
 
 She was silent where she felt most deeply, a silence 
 which pride taught her, and those who said she was 
 heartless little knew what tenderness was in her, and what 
 capacity for pain. They thought she was unfeeling about 
 her brother Henry, whose death had cast a shadow on her
 
 52 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 wedding festivities ; for she spoke of him often, but always 
 gaily as though he still lived, and none knew, save Fried- 
 rich and Mistress Anne Dudley, that she spoke thus be- 
 cause had she weakened the fortress of her soul by sad 
 words, the yearning in her heart would have broken forth 
 hi tears and despair ; and then she could never have 
 spoken of him again as she loved to do. There are some 
 women who must e'en be silent thus, for their sorrow is 
 too deep to bear the casual pity which would wound anew 
 and defile the sanctuary of their mourning ; and these are 
 the women whom the world always believes to be heartless. 
 Early hi August my Lord of Harrington and his lady 
 took leave of Elizabeth and started on their tedious 
 journey back to England. It was bitter to Elizabeth, for 
 she felt that in parting from these trusted friends she bid 
 farewell for ever to childhood's thoughtless gaiety. Lord 
 Harrington had been a father to her, a vast deal more 
 paternal than the egoistic James ; and Lady Harrington 
 had ever been such a mother as the frivolous, foolish 
 Queen could never have been, even had she kept her 
 children at her side instead of giving them over from 
 early childhood to the care of others. It was painful, 
 too, for Elizabeth to know that the Harringtons returned 
 to penury and debt in England ; and that this poverty 
 was caused by the expenses intendant on their steward- 
 ship for her expenses not defrayed by the paltry sum 
 given for her household by King James. Her Highness 
 knew that her royal father would be generous in pro- 
 mises. She saw in memory's clear vision the King's 
 solemn, false face, she heard him sneer in the privacy of 
 the family circle : " Ech ! sirs, we hae fair stilled the auld 
 cock's plaints, now let him gang his ain gait wi' his empty 
 purse ! He canna get bawbees frae a man wha hasna 
 ony ! " For his Majesty of England's speech relaxed 
 into the broadest of Lowland Scots in private, and in 
 public, too, for that matter, when his irascible temper 
 burst forth. Elizabeth consoled herself by planning visits 
 to England : how she would sojourn at Combe Abbey 
 once more and wander in that delightful garden which
 
 QUIET DAYS 53 
 
 she, as a little maiden, had named " my territories." She 
 would revisit her Fairy Farm, where small cows, tiny 
 Shetland ponies, and dwarf poultry had been kept for 
 her. Her Fairy Farm ! Ah ! how good those days of 
 childhood had been ! True, Mistress Tyrell, the nurse- 
 woman, had oft reproved her Highness for the lack of 
 dignity which prompted her to sport with peasant brats, 
 but Elizabeth Stuart had made answer that they were so 
 good to her " so good and kind " she said. And if 
 my little Lady Phyllis Devereux, cetat. nine summers, 
 had proved sullen or cross-tempered ; if Master Edmund 
 Talbot had been rough or angry ; why, then, had Sally 
 Jones, the smithy's daughter, been the better playmate, 
 and Hal Titmouse, the cowherd's lad, the "sweeter gossip," 
 as her Highness named it. 
 
 When Mistress Tyrell had summoned the Lady Elizabeth 
 home for the formal supper, saying, " Come, come, madame, 
 it is time ! I pray your Grace to leave the pert varlets!" 
 she had thrown her arms round Hal Titmouse's neck and 
 had bid him farewell with a frank friendship she deigned 
 not bestow on the serving-wench's upstart pretension. 
 
 " Alack ! the beloved maiden reeks of the byre ! " had 
 exclaimed my Lady of Harrington when Elizabeth re- 
 turned, and then the sorry tale of her Highness and the 
 cowherd's embrace had shrilled from Mistress Tyrell's 
 righteous lips. 
 
 " Leave the little maiden ! " had cried my Lady of Har- 
 rington in her sound good sense ; and to Lord Harrington 
 she had averred : " Leave her Grace, her sweet kiss is fair 
 and honest, and no indignity, methinks, my lord, to the 
 stable lad nor to her Highness." 
 
 Then, too, there had been a small island in a little lake 
 in the park, where forget-me-nots and irises, tall yellow 
 kingcups, marsh-mallows, and fragrant meadow-sweet had 
 succeeded one another in the task of beautifying Elizabeth's 
 " Isle of Constant Spring," as she had called it. 
 
 Yes, as she bade farewell at Heidelberg to my Lady of 
 Harrington she vowed she would soon revisit Combe and 
 these dear haunts of childhood.
 
 54 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 But a week after the Harringtons had started on their 
 tedious journey to England the news had come to Heidel- 
 berg of how my lord had fallen ill of a malignant fever, 
 and had died with tender words of remembrance of " my 
 loved Lady Elizabeth " on his lips. Truly her Highness 
 mourned him, and bitterly she reproached herself for every 
 childish prank or petulant mood of hers which had troubled 
 my lord in the bygone days. It was Elizabeth Stuart's 
 first acquaintance with Death the Irrevocable. 
 
 Autumn came to Heidelberg and made glorious the beech 
 woods with crimson and gold, with russet and purple, and 
 touched to splendour the long, low hills. But Summer was 
 loth to leave the world that year, and it seemed as though 
 she masqueraded under Autumn's cloak of many colours, 
 so that Rain and Cold, recognising her beneath the dis- 
 guise, stayed in affright away, hidden with Winter. 
 
 Each day her Highness rode out, sometimes with her 
 hooded falcon on her wrist, sometimes bent on long wander- 
 ings through the quiet woods. Christel was always in 
 attendance and Mistress Anne Dudley, but Prince Fried - 
 rich often stayed at home, for much as he loved the gay 
 expeditions, he was too punctilious in the performance of 
 graver duties to neglect them even for Elizabeth's sake ; 
 and the coming year would see him not only directing 
 Palatine affairs, but acting as the acknowledged head of 
 the Union of Protestant Princes, whose chief his father, 
 Friedrich IV., had also been. Friedrich took himself and 
 his position seriously, perchance a trifle heavily, mistaking 
 heaviness for power and real weight. Yet his mind was 
 too lovelit for thorough absorption in matters of State. 
 He did his best, but his best was not good enough, not 
 strong enough. He was a Prince Charming, a delightful 
 lover, a true gentleman, a brave youth, but the good God 
 had not made him a statesman or a strong man. The 
 good God so often makes a man for one career and gives 
 him another task. Is it one of the ironies of an all-seeing 
 Providence, or do the angels shuffle the souls and their 
 destinies, and is God Almighty as puzzled as we are when 
 He sees the crooked results ?
 
 QUIET DAYS 55 
 
 Once when riding through the golden woods her High- 
 ness's horse shied at a figure which appeared suddenly 
 from out a clump of hazel-trees at the outskirts of the 
 forest. It was a tall figure dressed in vivid- coloured 
 garments, a woman with a wildness of black hair hung 
 with small gold corns and scarlet tassels. 
 
 "Only a wandering Egyptian, sweet cousin," said Christel, 
 as Elizabeth, startled, drew back. " See, yonder is their 
 camp, the blue smoke from their fire is curling over the 
 tree-tops." 
 
 " What would she with me ? " her Highness asked, as 
 the Egyptian stood in her way. " Ask her, Christel. I 
 cannot go forward without riding over her." 
 
 Meanwhile two of the huntsmen in their green coats 
 and large tan-coloured felt hats, had dismounted and were 
 endeavouring to drag the woman aside. She shook them 
 off fiercely, and, drawing a dagger-pm from out her heavy 
 hair, would have stabbed one of the men had his comrade 
 not stayed her arm. The angry man raised his whip and 
 would have brought it down on the woman's shoulders, 
 but Christel sprang forward and bade him hold. The whole 
 cavalcade had ridden up and formed a laughing group 
 around her Highness, Christel, and the gipsy. 
 
 " What would you, woman ? " called Elizabeth in her 
 halting German. 
 
 " There is Destiny in your face, lady," the gipsy re- 
 turned ; " give me gold and I will tell your future ! " 
 
 " Ah ! a soothsayer ! Well, would you see my hand ? " 
 cried her Highness merrily, drawing off her embroidered 
 gauntlet. 
 
 " Nay, lady 'tis written in your face ! But I reveal no 
 secrets without my price." 
 
 " Schomberg, give her a gold piece. Tut, man ! " she 
 cried as Schomberg shook his head. " One gold piece 
 cannot empty my treasury. See now, I want to hear my 
 fortune read from my face ! " She dismounted, aided by 
 Christel. " Now, soothsayer, predict me happiness ! " she 
 said lightly. 
 
 The woman looked at her with an earnest gaze for a
 
 56 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 moment. " Take back your gold, lady," she murmured, 
 and, flinging the coin on the ground, she would have fled. 
 
 " Stay her, Christel, stay her ! " cried Elizabeth, her 
 curiosity thoroughly aroused. Prince Christian caught 
 the gipsy's arm. " No mumming, woman," he said sternly ; 
 " you know who this lady is ? " 
 
 " I only came into this countryside last night. You 
 are from the Court, my pretty gentleman, but I know not 
 who you are. Let me go I dare not tell that lady what 
 I read in her face let me go let me go " 
 
 " Is it death you see ? " whispered Christian, his cheek 
 blanching. 
 
 " Not death but sorrow, great and long sorrow," she 
 whispered. 
 
 " Christel, you squire of dames ! " cried her Highness, 
 " are you philandering even with the Egyptian ? Come ! 
 I want my fortune told like any country wench at a fair ! " 
 
 " Say something, woman any foolery, and begone," 
 Christel muttered, as he thrust the gipsy towards Elizabeth. 
 
 " Nay, if I read a fortune I must read it true, or my gift 
 of foreknowledge would vanish for ever," she cried loudly. 
 
 " Tell me my future as you see it," said Elizabeth. 
 
 Silence fell on the laughing group ; not a man of them 
 but believed in signs, omens, and portents, and the woman's 
 evident anxiety to be spared her task had struck a note 
 of terror to the listeners' souls. 
 
 " Lady, you order me to tell you ? Then hearken ! " 
 the Egyptian said solemnly. " In your face is beauty 
 fatal to men's hearts." She paused, and a sigh of relief went 
 up from the listeners. After all, it was only the old patter 
 they had all heard a dozen times at country Kerrnesses. 
 
 Some one laughed ; some one said, " A dark man loves 
 her, and two fair men yearn for her." 
 
 " Be silent ! " the Egyptian cried, in a voice so fiercely 
 commanding that the laughter was stilled. " Be silent ! 
 This is no merrymaking ! Lady, the day will come when 
 you will rue that your beauty made one man to be rash 
 for you, and hundreds to die for you. Failure is written 
 on your brow, and long years to mourn failure. You will
 
 QUIET DAYS 57 
 
 bring sorrow to those you love, despair to those who love 
 you. I see you dying in a land beyond the sea, old, and 
 lonely, and forgotten. There is doom in your glance, 
 lady." 
 
 A cry went up from the throng of huntsmen : " She is 
 an evil witch to the river with her ! " and rough hands 
 were laid upon her. 
 
 " Leave her to me," cried Elizabeth. " Woman," she 
 said, " why do you say such dark things to me ? " 
 
 "You ordered me to tell you, lady," returned the 
 Egyptian, and there was a proud dignity in her mien. 
 
 " Go in peace," said Elizabeth ; " and mark you," she 
 added, turning to the courtiers, " I will have no harm 
 done her. It is a foolish mumming, but she believes 
 what she says. Here ! " she flung the woman another gold 
 piece. " And next time we meet, prophesy me a happy 
 future." She turned away carelessly, and remounted. 
 
 " A foolish trick ; but I am thankful his Highness was 
 not by, for he fears such things and deems them true, 
 while I ha ! Christel, a heron ! Quick! Master Falconer, 
 off with the hood ! Up, merry lady, up ! See, she spies 
 the quarry ! " she cried, as the falcon flew, rising to a mere 
 speck in the still air high above the heron, which flew 
 with outstretched wings over the open grassland towards 
 a distant wood. 
 
 " Christel ! the heron shows fight. See ! he is flying on 
 his back. Good lack ! and it is the young falcon ; will she 
 know how to avoid the bird's spear beak ? She swoops ! 
 she swoops ! Ah ! she has him ! on ! on ! " Elizabeth 
 Stuart galloped towards the spot where the antagonists of 
 the air had fallen in a struggling mass. In her mind she 
 had struck a childlike, fantastic bargain with Fate : If the 
 falcon was speared by the heron's beak she would give 
 credence to the Egyptian's warning; if the heron lay 
 vanquished beneath the falcon's claws, then all would be 
 well with Elizabeth Stuart, and the Egyptian had spoken 
 a fond tale. With beating heart she galloped on, followed 
 by hawkers and falconers. 
 
 " She has him ! she has him ! " she cried, as she came
 
 58 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 to the fluttering combatants. " Thank God ! she has 
 him." 
 
 " Why so glad at the new falcon's prowess ? " asked 
 Prince Christian, as he rode up. 
 
 "Yes, Christel, I had wagered much just then," she 
 said, laughing ; " I am a foolish maiden." But Christel's 
 eyes told her she was fairer and more beloved than any 
 one on earth, and that her foolishness would be wisdom 
 in his thinking for ever. 
 
 They rode home through the dusk of the November 
 day. Behind them the sun was sinking in a red glory, 
 but all the sky southwards was lit as with a rapture of 
 remembrance of the passing of the Sun-god. The mighty 
 castle loomed like some fairy palace. Silence brooded 
 over all, and from out the township in the valley floated 
 up on the still air the sound of those constantly recurring 
 bells which regulated the lives of the orderly citizens. 
 From the prayer-bell at break of dawn calling the work- 
 men to rise and pray ere they began their tasks, to the 
 curfew toll at nine of the night, the chimes proclaimed 
 the order of the day. At eleven of the morning the bell 
 rang out blithely, bidding the toilers cease their labour 
 and refresh their bodies with food and drink; again, an 
 hour after noon, the tinkling sound announced that the 
 midday rest was done, and that work awaited accomplish- 
 ment. At set of sun the bell summoned the children 
 home from school or play, and told the peaceful citizens 
 that the evening meal was prepared. Then there came 
 the deep toll of the curfew, bidding law-abiding men to 
 cover their lights and rest. But each town according to 
 its trade, of course, had other bells, though the chief 
 hours varied little all over Germany. Then there were 
 bells to announce events : birth, and marriage, and death, 
 fire and danger, and the storm-bell, and one which sent 
 a shudder even to stout hearts and a prayer to the most 
 impious lips. This was the " Arinesiinderglocke," the 
 " poor sinner's bell," which was rung when a soul was sent 
 to the eternal Tribunal by the hands of more righteous 
 or more fortunate men. Death was the penalty for most
 
 QUIET DAYS 59 
 
 offences in those days, and hardly a week would pass 
 without the dread ringing of the " poor sinner's bell." 
 
 As Elizabeth Stuart rode homewards through the 
 crepuscule the evening chimes were ringing in the city. 
 
 " Hasten, Christel," she said, " we shall be late; already 
 madame ma mere is assuring herself that I shall not be 
 in time for supper. Alas! it seems to me that an we 
 supped at midnight I should be there at one of the 
 clock ! " she laughed. 
 
 " It is time your Highness were returned," said Schom- 
 berg, riding up. 
 
 " Time, monsieur? Time and I fell out long ago. I 
 am always pursuing the grim monster. Come, then ! " 
 she cried lightly. She urged her horse forward and gal- 
 loped up the road to the first draw-gate of the castle. 
 
 " Madame, for the dear God's sake have a care ! " called 
 Schomberg. " Madame, it is slippery beneath the arch- 
 way of the inner bridge ! " But she paid no heed, and 
 galloped as one pursued over the drawbridge and into the 
 courtyard. 
 
 "Care and Time are mighty troublesome tyrants, Schom- 
 berg ! " she cried, as she dismounted at the steps of the 
 Friedrich's Bau, where she still lodged. 
 
 " Her Highness Juliane begs to wait on your Highness 
 before supper, madame," said Sadillo, her major-domo, 
 as she mounted the steps. Elizabeth shrugged her shoul- 
 ders impatiently. 
 
 " I have outraced Time for once, and now here is Care 
 in the person of Madame Mere coming to hinder me from 
 conquering Time and getting to supper ! " she whispered 
 to Mistress Anne as she hurried to her apartments on 
 the first floor. Ere her Highness was dressed her page 
 announced that the Countess Juliane was in the audience- 
 chamber. 
 
 " Quick ! give me my brocaded bedgown ! I cannot let 
 Madame Mere wait till I put on all these fallals," Eliza- 
 beth said, as one tiring- woman offered her the white satin 
 underskirt, another stood ready with the stiff wheel-like 
 fardingale of light-blue flowered taffeta,and a third held out
 
 60 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the short-waisted Dutch bodice of blue satin, while another 
 busied herself with the lace rebatoe which would rise 
 like a filmy half-frame behind the wearer's head. But, 
 for the nonce, Elizabeth would have none of these ; for to 
 don such garments, to tie the many little ribbons down 
 the front of the bodice, to adjust the rich overskirt and 
 the fardingale, and fasten with jewelled ornaments on each 
 shoulder the finish of the rebatoe all this needed many 
 minutes' careful attention ! So, quick ! her Highness's bed- 
 gown, a mantle of delicate brocade with large falling 
 sleeves and soft laces and many bunches of ribbon. The 
 women brought this garment, and Elizabeth Stuart was 
 ready to receive the Electress Juliane. 
 
 " I crave forgiveness, madame ma mere," her Highness 
 said as she entered the audience-chamber. 
 
 " Perchance my visit at this hour is irksome, madame 
 ma fille," Juliane responded coldly, " but I have a matter 
 of import to discuss." She paused. 
 
 " Madame, your visit is always welcome, yet I returned 
 a little late from the chase to-day, and I feared not to be 
 in time for supper," Elizabeth answered. 
 
 A smile passed over Juliane's lips. " A little late, ma 
 fille hum hum that were of a truth unusual ! Nay, 
 I would not chide. Ah ! sweet child, let me speak as a 
 mother. I have only your wellbeing at heart." Again she 
 hesitated. A gulf of years lay between her and Elizabeth, 
 that deep ravine across which the old judge the young 
 timidly ; and the young, clear-sighted and intolerant, con- 
 demn the counsels of the old. Sympathy may throw a 
 bridge across this ravine, but it is a bridge which the heavy 
 foot of disapproval breaks down and destroys instantly. 
 
 " I have only your wellbeing at heart, ma fille," she 
 repeated tremulously. "Believe me, you are unwise in 
 exerting yourself at the chase as you do it is not safe for 
 you, and for the dear burden you carry it is full of risk." 
 
 " But, madame, I have told you before that I feel better 
 when I ride out," cried Elizabeth impatiently ; " and if it 
 suits my health, sure it must be good for my child." 
 
 " Nay, it is dangerous for both so near the birth. I have
 
 QUIET DAYS 61 
 
 spoken before ; but, as your Highness paid no heed to my 
 warnings, I wrote to his Majesty at Whitehall. To-day I 
 have received a letter out of England." She drew a folded 
 paper from her girdle. " Your royal father desires me to 
 enforce our wishes." 
 
 " Madame ma mere, it is past a laughing matter ! " cried 
 Elizabeth. " I am no longer a child to be chidden thus, and 
 to have my every action reported to his Majesty ! He 
 is no midwife, and cannot know what is best for me!" 
 
 " This is unseemly, madame," said Juliane sharply. " If 
 you will not listen to the wise reasoning of his Majesty, 
 you must indeed give credence to my experience. In Ger- 
 many it is the custom to defer to the husband's mother in 
 such matters." 
 
 " In Germany, madame ma mere, no doubt ! But I am 
 English, and we have other customs hi our land," Elizabeth 
 answered haughtily. 
 
 " Pretty habits, of a truth, madame ! Habits of a 
 daughter taking precedence of her spouse's mother ! " 
 cried Juliane. In a woman's dispute the grievance in 
 discussion calls in the aid of many lurking antagonisms ; 
 argument opens the door of anger and out rush jealousy, 
 forgotten slights, and half-a-dozen old quarrels, and in this 
 discordant crowd the original cause of variance is lost. 
 
 " We must be served first, not only at banquets, but 
 when there are no guests ! " the old Electress continued 
 shrilly. " We disdain all but dishes prepared by our 
 English kitchen -master ! We harken not to good Master 
 Scultetus in his excellent discourses, we must have an 
 English divine to read us Lutheran doctrine ! " The 
 Electress Juliane paused for breath. 
 
 " Is it of this you would speak, madame, or of my other 
 misdoings ? " quoth her Highness. 
 
 " I came to speak of your father's advice," Juliane 
 said sadly, and passed her hand over her eyes where the 
 tears had sprung. Elizabeth saw this, and her heart 
 grew tender. 
 
 " Ah ! Madame ma mere, you weep ? Dear madame, 
 I am a wayward being forgive me ! I care no jot for
 
 62 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 precedence it is only according to my father's orders. 
 But the chase, madame it does not harm me I 
 cannot sit in a shut room and mope like a German 
 woman," she cried. 
 
 " Ma fille, you need not sit in a closed room, and Ger- 
 man women do not mope more than others," said Juliane ; 
 " but you must consider your health at this time." 
 
 " I do consider my health, madame, in my own way ; 
 but my way is not your way," Elizabeth answered. 
 
 " No, our ways divide, your Highness, so greatly that I 
 shall retire to my castle of Frankenthal as soon as the 
 preparations for my reception are completed. But it is 
 my duty to warn you of your unwisdom, and that I shall 
 do always," the Electress-Dowager said gravely. 
 
 " I am sorry, madame, that you should leave us," her 
 Highness replied ; " yet perchance it is better so." 
 
 " The old shall make way for the young, the mother 
 shall be banished by the wife. It is ever thus," said 
 Juliane bitterly ; " you will know the pain of it some day 
 yourself, ma fille. It is the price of a mother's joy. But 
 it is hard and bitter to give up our child to another woman 
 our child for to a mother even the grown man is a 
 child, always the little creature she has loved and tended." 
 Juliane hid her face in her hands and wept. 
 
 "Ma mere, ma mere forgive me yes, you are right!" 
 cried Elizabeth, flinging her arms round the old Electress. 
 " Ma mere, listen ! I will not go a-riding again ; I will do all 
 you say. Madame, we both love Friedrich. Ma mere, I 
 love you too." The passionate generosity of her nature was 
 aroused, and she pleaded with Juliane like a penitent child. 
 
 " Ma fille, I thank you," said the older woman, drying 
 her eyes. " You are a brave and generous heart; God keep 
 you so all the days of your life. Yes, I will go to Fran- 
 kenthal, for the young must consort with the young ; and," 
 she smiled through the tears which welled up anew, " and 
 the young must e'en make the mistakes of youth, must buy 
 experience with pain." 
 
 " As you did, too, madame ma mere ? " said Elizabeth, 
 with a little laugh.
 
 QUIET DAYS 63 
 
 " As I did too, ma fille," replied Juliane gently. 
 
 So it fell out that Elizabeth Stuart went no more a-hunt- 
 ing that autumn. She occupied herself with watching the 
 building of the new portion of Heidelberg Castle, which 
 was to be her future abode, and with the choosing of the 
 designs for the decorations of the private playhouse which 
 Friedrich caused to be constructed on the spacious roof of 
 the Dicke Thurm. Here in former ages had stood gigantic 
 slings ready to hurl stones on an approaching enemy. Here, 
 too, Friedrich IV. had placed heavy cannon. But in 1613 
 war and siege seemed to be far off eventualities to Fried- 
 rich V., and he laboured but to give entertainment to his 
 well-beloved lady. Master Solomon De Caus, artist, archi- 
 tect, engineer, was summoned from France to replan the 
 gardens, and Elizabeth Stuart passed many hours poring 
 over drawings and designs, or wandering about the gardens 
 with the enthusiastic Frenchman, who vowed that he would 
 make of Heidelberg a very paradise. " Here should arise 
 a flowering parterre ! " 
 
 " Where ? " cried her Highness, for De Caus pointed at 
 space over a deep fall of ground. 
 
 " Here, your Highness, it shall arise, builded with rich 
 earth a hundred feet up till " he made a sweeping gesture 
 in the air " till here on a level with us shall lie an en- 
 chanted garden ! " 
 
 There were plans for fountains, wondrous devices where 
 the water was tortured to a dozen shapes jetted up, flung 
 back, whirled round ; there were drawings of a hundred 
 statues; of grottoes where mechanical instruments dis- 
 coursed fair melodies, instruments set to their labours by 
 waterworks, and others by the air of heaven. There was 
 to be a bathing grotto : " Ici les dames seront les nymphes, 
 Altesse, je n'en pourrais dessiner d'aussi belles ! " 
 
 "When can these marvels be ready, Monsieur De Caus?" 
 asked her Highness, and they spoke of all to do with the 
 plan except the cost of it. Elizabeth would have had 
 the work to begin forthwith, but De Caus told her it could 
 not be till after the frost and snow had been to Heidelberg 
 and gone again. Now he could only plan, mark off men-
 
 64 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 tally,and arrange whence should be procured the mountains 
 of earth required for raising levels. This started them on 
 another dream : they would fashion the rough hill-land, 
 whence they would take this earth, into a walk for her 
 Highness ; it should become a gentle grassy slope, an 
 orchard as she had known in England. 
 
 In the long hours after the evening meal there was no 
 dancing now; for her Highness's condition did not allow of 
 it, albeit the fardingale and the voluminous skirts did their 
 duty right discreetly, and hid effectually even the contour 
 of advanced pregnancy. This mad fashion of the fardin- 
 gale came out of Spain, and had been invented, so scandal 
 said, to hide the condition of a princess which should not 
 have needed hiding. Be this as it may, the fardingale, a 
 curse to ladies on other occasions, was a convenient and 
 discreet friend during pregnancy. It suited her High- 
 ness's humour sometimes to take advantage of this, and 
 pretend surprise at the allusions of well-wishers ; and she 
 steadily refused to receive the embassies of congratulation 
 which came from all parts of Europe. It was no whim, 
 she averred, but it brought mischance to congratulate 
 before an event. This she set forth to her Highness 
 Juliane ere she bid her farewell. The old Electress had 
 remained steadfast in her resolution, and had journeyed 
 to her dower-house at Frankenthal. She had departed 
 in peace, though she had warned Friedrich and Elizabeth 
 of the enormous expenditure they would incur if they 
 sanctioned all De Caus' plans. There had been sharp 
 words between mother and son, and unpleasant allusions 
 on his part to the enormous list of items purchased at the 
 yearly Frankfurt Fair by his father, Friedrich IV. Yet these 
 quarrels had vanished at the farewell hour, as quarrels do, 
 and the Countess Juliane had gone in peace. 
 
 From England came the news that the divorce of my 
 Lady of Essex had prospered, news, too, of her betrothal 
 to my Lord of Rochester, and of his rise in rank to the 
 Earldom of Somerset ; also mention of Sir Thomas Over- 
 bury's death in the Tower. Beyond that there was talk 
 of King James's empty treasury, of how the Commons re-
 
 QUIET DAYS 65 
 
 fused to vote supplies, for though England was ruled by 
 his Majesty, still, as a formality, the Parliament had to vote 
 him monies a mere formality destined to become a harsh 
 and binding law. How little they dreamed what part the 
 Commons would play in a few years' time ! Christmas 
 was coming in peace this year of 1613, and at Heidelberg 
 there reigned calm and prosperity. 
 
 Shortly before Christmas it was announced that an 
 embassy would journey from France to congratulate 
 his Highness Palatine and incidentally her Highness 
 on the prospect of an heir. 
 
 " I will not receive them ! " cried Elizabeth ; " I hate 
 this talk before the child is there." 
 
 " It is only a ceremony, dear heart," explained 
 Friedrich. 
 
 " I will not, and I will not ! " said her Highness, 
 and abode by it. 
 
 They arrived, the noble French gentlemen, bringing 
 gifts from the Queen-mother: a chased golden goblet, 
 pearls of price, a baby's robe of filmy laces, embroidered 
 cushions and coverlets, a tiny cap for baby's head. Sure, 
 dainty things to welcome the little life, things to bring 
 a tear of tenderness to a woman's eye. Mistress Anne 
 Dudley, gentle soul, was shown the presents, and sighed 
 and touched the little garments with a soft hand. But 
 her Highness, when she was told, flung off into one of 
 her wayward moods. She would not see the ambassadors. 
 She "would not, and she would not," as she said. Friedrich 
 explained ; he spoke of women's whims " At such a time, 
 my lords, I would not gainsay her Highness." 
 
 The courtiers whispered, the men ridiculed and dis- 
 approved ; their ladies, jealous of the consideration shown 
 to a woman's whim or sensibility grumbled that this 
 was no German way of treating a wife, and that there must 
 be something undutiful, probably unmoral, in a woman 
 who could inspire such homage after marriage. " Thou 
 dear Heaven ! " they cried, " we were not wont to be used 
 thus ! " And they cast angry looks at their autocratic 
 lords.
 
 66 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 The ambassadors were aghast at their reception, and 
 there was a time of strained relations at Heidelberg. Her 
 Highness was served in her own apartments ; she did not 
 attend the banquets. Then at the eleventh hour she 
 relented a trifle. She would receive the ambassadors in 
 private audience. 
 
 They were ushered up, and were met at the head of the 
 stairs by Count Schomberg and her Highness's own gentle- 
 men. They passed into the antehall and stood waiting 
 before the bright log-fire on the hearth. Then the door 
 was flung open, and her Highness's page, young Hans 
 von Steinberg, announced that her Highness awaited the 
 honour of welcoming France's embassy. The gentlemen 
 passed through Mistress Anne's apartment and entered 
 the audience chamber. Elizabeth Stuart stood before 
 them in sweeping robes of ivory satin, huge fardingale 
 and mighty ruff. Her breast was ablaze with jewels, a 
 great pearl lay on her brow, a pearl which Elizabeth 
 of England had sent to Scotland eighteen years ago 
 to her " little gossip " when the said " little gossip " 
 was made a member of God's church, and given the 
 name of Elizabeth. Her Highness stood very straight, 
 one hand resting on the back of a carven chair, the other 
 hand playing with the glittering chain of rubies which 
 was King James's gift to " Bess, Goody Palsgrave," as his 
 Majesty called her. Monsieur de Sainte Catherine, the 
 ambassador, bowed deeply ; her Highness responded with 
 a profound obeisance. 
 
 " Altesse, it is indeed a joy and honour to be received," 
 he began. 
 
 " Mais, Monsieur 1'Ambassadeur ! it is no less an honour 
 for me to welcome the envoy of her Majesty of France ! 
 It has irked me that a slight indisposition has deprived 
 me of the pleasure of seeing you ere this." 
 
 " Madame, my royal mistress, sa Majeste* tres ve'nere'e, 
 has made bold to send you a few small gifts." He waved 
 a secretary forward who bore an emblazoned casket. 
 " An it please you to view them, madame ? " 
 
 The pearls were shown, and she praised them ; then
 
 QUIET DAYS 67 
 
 the golden goblet, and then the little garments of filmy 
 laces. 
 
 " I charge you, Monsieur 1'Ambassadeur, to give my 
 humble thanks to her Majesty. I am truly grateful, 
 monsieur," she said, and offered him her hand to kiss. He 
 bent over it. 
 
 " Madame 1'Electrice, her Majesty sends you right good 
 wishes, and greetings to the little Palsgrave, who shall be 
 a better gift to a mother's heart than pearls and gold," 
 he said. 
 
 " In good faith, monsieur, as all the world seems 
 determined to think me enceinte, I shall soon believe it 
 myself," she answered, and dismissed the astonished 
 ambassador with one of her puzzling smiles. 
 
 Five days afterwards the bells of Heidelberg rang out 
 peal after peal, and the cannon thundered salutes to the 
 new little Prince Palatine. Elizabeth Stuart, lying in the 
 great bed of her chamber in the Friedrich's Bau, held in 
 her arms a little bundle of laces and ribbons, out of which 
 peeped the tiny red face of the new-born. There was 
 peace and rest in that sumptuous apartment ; the wood 
 fire flared and crackled on the hearth, and Mistress Anne 
 Dudley hurried about noiselessly, bringing comfortable, 
 warm possets for the young mother, adjusting a pillow, 
 smoothing a rebellious curl from her Highness's brow. 
 
 Suddenly Elizabeth broke out in laughter. 
 
 " Hush, your Highness, rest ! be calm ! Quick, her 
 Highness's essence flagon ! Quick ! Her Highness has a 
 nervous fit ! " cried the attendants. 
 
 " Nay, but nay, but I am right well. I think on 
 Monsieur de Sainte Catherine, who will have told them in 
 France that I was not enceinte. Think, oh Anne ! think 
 of him when he hears that this little sweeting came to 
 me so soon ! "
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE FIRST MESH IS SPUN 
 
 THE " little sweeting," as Elizabeth called the baby 
 Pfalzgraf, was christened with much pomp, and 
 received the names of Henry Friedrich Henry in 
 remembrance of her Highness's well - beloved brother, 
 whose death had cast so deep a gloom on her first days 
 of happiness as the affianced bride of Friedrich of the 
 Palatinate. For the baptism a bevy of princes repaired to 
 Heidelberg, and again there were magnificent festivities, 
 joustings, and banquets. In England the news of the 
 birth was received with acclamation, and a bill was 
 passed by Parliament conferring the privileges of an 
 English subject upon the little Palsgrave, and proclaim- 
 ing him to be the rightful heir to the throne of England, 
 after his mother. Prince Charles of England was a weak 
 and ailing youth, and, even if he lived to be king, none 
 expected him to be capable of marriage and fatherhood ; 
 thus her Highness Palatine was regarded as the future 
 queen of Great Britain. The Puritans in especial 
 rejoiced, and welcomed the infant Henry Friedrich as 
 heir-presumptive to the throne. The expressions of their 
 joy, devotion, and homage were so ostentatious that King 
 James, always jealous and suspicious, was reported to be 
 in a chronic condition of wrath ; and though he scraped 
 a decent sum of money from his ill-furnished treasury as 
 a gift to the infant prince, still it was known that he at 
 least shared but moderately in the universal satisfaction 
 of England. It is notoriously unpleasant to monarchs to 
 hear talk on the merits of their successors, and King 
 James was not singular in this ; the Emperor Matthias 
 was experiencing the same discomfort at this time. While 
 the Protestant communities rejoiced at the birth of an heir 
 
 68
 
 THE FIRST MESH IS SPUN 69 
 
 to their champions, the Catholic world was distraught with 
 anxiety as to who should be the future emperor of the 
 Holy Roman Empire, and the leader of the sacred cause. 
 It was reckoned that Matthias had few years to live, and all 
 deemed it unlikely that he would beget an heir, although 
 he had but recently espoused Anne of Styria, daughter of 
 the Archduke Ferdinand, regent of Tyrol, who by his 
 first marriage had set the world agog by espousing Philip- 
 pine Welser, daughter of an Augsburg patrician, no fitting 
 mate for an Austrian Archduke, but of romantic fame 
 for this same reason. The Emperor Matthias's brothers, 
 Maximilian and Albrecht, though they desired to secure 
 the imperial crown for the Catholic cause, shunned for 
 themselves the mighty task of empire and supported the 
 claim of Ferdinand of Styria, the Empress Anne's brother. 
 This prince's pretensions were based on his descent from 
 the Emperor Maximilian's brother, Philippine Welser's 
 Duke Ferdinand of Tyrol. Now Philip III. of Spain 
 stepped in and claimed the better right by reason of his 
 direct descent from the Emperor Maximilian through his 
 daughter. But the claim was repudiated immediately 
 firstly, according to the Salic law which forbade the female 
 succession ; and secondly, Queen Anne of Spain had, upon 
 her marriage with Philip II., formally renounced her rights 
 both for herself and her issue. Here the Protestant elec- 
 tors and even their Catholic compeers protested that the 
 Hapsburgs possessed no hereditary imperial rights, that 
 they were emperors by election and kings of Bohemia 
 and Hungary by acceptance. The Bohemians and Hun- 
 garians claimed their ancient privilege of election, and con- 
 tended that the wording in the patent was "accepted by the 
 Bohemians," and that they had notoriouslyalways possessed, 
 and practised, the right of freely electing their kings. 
 
 To Philip of Spain's claim Matthias's brother, Archduke 
 Maximilian, responded, that though he was willing to re- 
 nounce his indisputable rights in favour of Ferdinand of 
 Styria, whom he considered a young and strong prince,more 
 fitted to govern an empire than such frail greybeards as 
 himself andhis brother Albrecht, still he strenuously refused
 
 70 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 to countenance the Spaniard's pretension, based as it was on 
 descent in the female line and even thus solemnly renounced 
 by the female link in the chain. Philip answered that his 
 mother had resigned her rights in favour of her brothers 
 and the heirs of their bodies, and that she would never 
 have given over her heritage to other claimants. Thus 
 he averred that the renunciation was invalid, and his right 
 was stronger than that of Ferdinand of Styria. Mean- 
 while the Emperor Matthias wavered and procrastinated, 
 played with the collection of curios, carven ivories, and 
 rare books bequeathed to him by his ill-used brother the 
 Emperor Antiquary, Rudolf II. ; dallied with his young 
 and handsome, if portly, wife Anne; and though he seemed 
 well disposed to the candidature of his brother-in-law, 
 Ferdinand of Styria, he refused to settle anything defi- 
 nitely concerning the succession. The favourite, Bishop 
 Klesl, tenacious of his power, and perfectly aware that it 
 would wane when the succession question was decided and 
 the intrigues of Europe were directed towards the newly 
 risen sun of an acknowledged future emperor, encouraged 
 Matthias in his inertia. This was the situation in the 
 winter of 1613-14. Now there sprang up another party 
 which pointed at Friedrich of the Palatinate as a possible 
 future emperor, a Protestant monarch backed by such 
 great powers as an English father-in-law, a Danish uncle, 
 King Christian, and a Dutch uncle, Prince Maurice of 
 Orange. Who could doubt that such champions of Pro- 
 testantism would risk all to secure an imperial crown to 
 their close kinsman, who would form an unassailable 
 Protestant empire ? 
 
 All these conjectures and intrigues were confounded 
 early in 1615 by the news that the Empress Anne was 
 enceinte, and that Matthias therefore refused to sanction 
 further negotiations concerning the succession. He an- 
 nounced proudly that his heir would be king of Bohemia 
 and Hungary, and that after his own death the empire 
 would be governed by a regent until such time as the 
 Hapsburg scion should be grown to man's estate and 
 fitted to rule as emperor. Even the most sanguine of
 
 THE FIRST MESH IS SPUN 71 
 
 the Catholic princes were appalled at the prospect of a 
 regency, but Matthias enquired angrily why his dear kins- 
 men and adherents persisted in allotting him so short a 
 span of life ; he was in excellent health, and the happi- 
 ness of knowing he would soon be a father had encouraged 
 him to hope for long years of earthly joy. 
 
 At Heidelberg the news was received with mingled feel- 
 ings : Prince Friedrich, who had attained his majority in 
 the August of 1614, saw a future menace to Protestant- 
 ism in the unborn Hapsburg infant ; Scultetus likewise in 
 Biblical phrases proclaimed the Empress's condition to be 
 the accursed flourishing of the evil tree of the ungodly ; 
 Elizabeth Stuart, too occupied with her domestic life to 
 care overmuch for political complications, averred that she 
 rejoiced for the portly Empress. The Electress Juliane, 
 sojourning for a few days at Heidelberg, was happy to hear 
 of the circumstance, for she had feared and mistrusted the 
 ambition which she had believed to be growing in her son's 
 heart ; she had trembled at the thought of Friedrich be- 
 coming involved in the vortex of intrigue which surrounded 
 the throne of Bohemia and the succession to the imperial 
 purple. 
 
 " Believe me, madame ma fille," she said to Elizabeth, 
 " you have peace and content here in Heidelberg. Ambi- 
 tion is a hard and cruel task-mistress, whose unrelenting 
 grasp crushes joy from the human heart. I have ever 
 thought that ambition is one of the fallen angels, who 
 has been noble zeal in Paradise, and is an evil spirit of 
 unrest on earth, cursed by God." 
 
 " Faint heart ! ma mere," returned Elizabeth, " who 
 would not be an emperor an he had the courage ? " 
 
 " Say not so, sweet child, you have content do not 
 grasp at other things," the old Electress said gravely. 
 
 " Ma foi, madame, if I could found an empire for my 
 son I would e'en risk my life ! " her Highness answered, 
 laughing. 
 
 But Elizabeth was greatly occupied at home, and 
 gave scant thought to other matters. Prince Friedrich 
 had returned with broken health from the assembly
 
 72 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 of Princes of the Union at Heilbronn. Elizabeth had 
 seen him ride forth in the pride of his youth and strength, 
 and three weeks afterwards he had returned with pallid 
 cheeks and languid gait, and had told her that he had 
 been sick unto death at Heilbronn. To her sharp ques- 
 tion as to why she had been left in ignorance of his 
 danger, he had replied that he would not have her 
 troubled. She had been both bitterly angered at his 
 silence and deeply touched at his loving consideration of 
 her, but, womanlike, she had shown her anger most, and 
 Friedrich, already depressed by the ravages of fever, had 
 fallen into a profound melancholy. 
 
 Count Schomberg's patient wooing of Mistress Anne 
 Dudley had been rewarded, and after a lengthy corre- 
 spondence with King James the marriage had taken 
 place at Heidelberg. The British Solomon had opposed 
 the match stubbornly, and had worked upon Anne's 
 father, Sutton, Lord Dudley, to withhold his consent. 
 There was no matter too trivial for his Majesty's inter- 
 ference, and having taken a misliking to Schomberg he 
 worked against the marriage as though it had been an 
 affair of State importance. He even complained that 
 Schomberg and Mistress Anne had been careless in their 
 service to her Highness, and adduced as proof thereof 
 that Elizabeth's jewels were not properly taken care of. 
 Where, for instance, was this pearl, that emerald ring, 
 this jewelled neckchain, that pendant of sapphires ? And 
 where was that beautiful set of ruby buttons which 
 Queen Anne had " heedlessly bestowed " on her High- 
 ness ? Poor Mistress Anne could account for all the 
 jewels save these said ruby buttons, but his Majesty 
 grew lachrymose, and averred that he had given them to 
 his beloved spouse years ago in happy Scotland, and that 
 these love tokens must be forthcoming. Then Elizabeth 
 remembered that she had presented these buttons to a 
 Mistress Tyrell, one of her tiring-women who had not 
 accompanied her into Germany, and Mistress Tyrell was 
 arraigned before King James. Yes, the buttons were 
 safe enough, but her Highness had given them over to
 
 THE FIRST MESH IS SPUN 73 
 
 the tiring-woman in payment of a debt of three hundred 
 pounds sterling which she had lent her Highness to 
 defray a little card account owed by the Princess of 
 scarce seventeen summers. So the buttons were re- 
 deemed and paid for by Elizabeth ; we may be sure that 
 King James kept the strings of his purse well knotted. 
 This fracas over and peace restored, Schomberg and 
 Mistress Anne Dudley were happily married early in the 
 year 1615. 
 
 De Cans had commenced his work in the Heidelberg 
 gardens, and veritable mountains of soil were being moved 
 from the rough hill-land behind the castle to raise the 
 level for terraces and floAvering parterres. The work 
 went on apace, yet Elizabeth was impatient. 
 
 " Altesse ! " cried De Caus, " the good God himself 
 laboured six days to make the earth ! Can I make a 
 paradise in six months ? " 
 
 " Her Highness dreams of inagic palaces and wondrous 
 plaisances which spring up in a night," said Friedrich, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Well, my lord," retorted her Highness, " some lovers 
 have accomplished the impossible to honour their 
 beloved ! I charge you offer me such a homage ! " 
 She laughed and turned away, walking slowly between 
 the rose trees of her rosery with Mistress Anne Dudley. 
 It was June, and the fragrance of the flowers was full in 
 the air. Friedrich stood watching her Highness as she 
 moved away. A shadow was in his eyes. " Offer me such 
 a homage," he repeated musingly, " God knows, I would 
 give her the world itself an I could ! " 
 
 " Monseigneur," said De Caus, " let us devise some jest 
 to please her Highness. Shall we build her a bower in 
 a single night ? " Friedrich turned to him eagerly. 
 
 " Could it be done, monsieur ? But remember, sir, it 
 must be a bower that will stand for ever. I will have no 
 paltry thing that would crumble before the first storm," 
 he said. 
 
 " Ah ! monseigneur, shall it not be a symbol of love 
 beautiful, fragile ? " cried the Frenchman.
 
 74 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " My love shall last for ever, sir ; let us build the 
 arbour of stone," returned Friedrich gravely. 
 
 " Alack ! these Germans ! " grumbled De Caus to him- 
 self as the Prince walked away, " heavy dullards ! with 
 their talk of ' for ever.' Bah ! we say such things to 
 women but these barbarians mean them ! Well, why 
 not ? Let us devise some solid homage in stone to be a 
 symbol of our German prince's love." He shrugged his 
 narrow shoulders, and taking a little book from his pocket 
 began to draw rapidly. 
 
 A few days afterwards he came to Friedrich. " Mon- 
 seigneur," he cried, " I have prepared the magic homage 
 for her Highness ! " and he presented the prince with a 
 drawing of a carven archway. " The stone is wrought, 
 and in a single night the gateway can be set up ! But 
 we must play a little comedy to her Highness to-morrow 
 that she may think our magic is potent." 
 
 On the morrow Elizabeth, Mistress Anne Dudley (Coun- 
 tess Schomberg she was now), Amalia Solms, and little 
 Hans Steinberg, the page, were together in her Highness's 
 favourite turret, where, two years before, she had so often 
 spent long hours with my lord and my lady of Harring- 
 ton. Before her Highness was her embroidery frame, 
 and Prince Christel sat near her with an open book on 
 his knee. He was reading aloud : 
 
 " But she scorned him, and when he prayed her bestow 
 on him a rose she had gathered, she mocked him, flung 
 him a golden thread from her broidery, and told him to 
 make a lute-string thereof an he could, for it was his 
 calling to tweak a minstrel's lyre but not to woo damsels 
 of high degree. Then did Lowfried the lover cut deeply 
 into his breast, and laid the golden thread close to his 
 heart, and vowed he would go out into the world and win 
 advancement by reason of splendid deeds. And so he did, 
 and returned to the castle proudly, having been knighted 
 by the king's own sword. And he made a song telling 
 of his prowess and his undying love, and this he sang to 
 the Lady Angliona, but she answered that he must prove 
 his faithful love to her. Then he told her that the
 
 THE FIRST MESH IS SPUN 75 
 
 golden thread still lay upon his heart, but she cried out 
 that he must show it to her. Then he said that it was 
 deep embedded in his flesh ; but she doubted him. So 
 he drew his sword, and cutting open the old wound he 
 drew forth the golden thread. And lo ! it was shining 
 and untarnished as on the day she had flung it to him 
 in scorn. And the Lady Angliona was conquered by 
 his love, and laid her hands upon his shoulders, and 
 stooping, kissed his heart. And Lowfried the lover praised 
 God, and gave thanks that, by the glory of true love, 
 of ardent service, and patient suffering, so fair a guerdon 
 had fallen to his lot as this gift of the Lady Angliona's 
 love." 
 
 Friedrich and De Caus, warned by a gesture of her 
 Highness's hand, had paused to listen. When the tale 
 ended, silence fell on the hearers, for Christel's voice and 
 the quaint wording of the ancient German legend seemed 
 a melodious poem of the olden time. After a moment 
 Friedrich plucked a yellow silken skein from her High- 
 ness's embroidery frame, and laughing held it out to 
 Christel. 
 
 " See, cousin," he said, " there are still golden threads 
 in the world even an there be no heroic knights." Christel 
 snatched the skein from him and hid it in his doublet. 
 
 " When you reclaim it, madame, you will find it on my 
 heart ! " he cried merrily. 
 
 " Silly children," Elizabeth said, laughing. " But what 
 would you, my lord ? Methinks you and Monsieur De 
 Caus came to me on some urgent embassy, to judge by 
 your serious looks." 
 
 " Altesse," said De Caus, " enchanters have been at work 
 in your garden during the night." 
 
 " How now ? Enchanters what has occurred ? " she 
 cried, and rose hastily. Prince Friedrich took her hand 
 and led her away in mock solemnity. They passed 
 through the courtyard and over the inner drawbridge, 
 avoiding the wilderness of boards, plankings, mortar- 
 heaps, and scaffolding with which the builders at work on 
 the new wing of the castle had encumbered the ground.
 
 76 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Up the road beneath the beech trees his Highness led the 
 Lady Elizabeth, then turned into the gardens near the 
 Hungerthurm. He led her towards two towering poles 
 which supported a damask curtain. 
 
 " What pleasantry is this, my lord ? A masque a 
 new play-acting ? " cried her Highness. 
 
 He gave her a gilded cord. " Draw aside the curtain, 
 madame ma mie," he whispered, " and you shall see a 
 magicking ! " 
 
 Elizabeth impetuously wrenched at the cord ; the 
 curtain flew apart and revealed a beautiful archway of 
 carven stone. 
 
 " Magic indeed ! " she cried ; " only yestere'en I passed 
 this way and there was no building begun here ! " 
 
 " Madame ma femme," said Friedrich, " you bid me offer 
 you a homage, so I builded this in a single night. Jason 
 buried the dragon's teeth in the earth, and an army sprang 
 to his bidding ! I sow my commands in the soil, and a 
 fair structure of stone straightway arises to symbolise the 
 enduring love of my heart for you." 
 
 " I thank you, beloved," said Elizabeth, and tears stood 
 in her eyes, " I thank you for this homage, which will 
 tell of your love for me long after we have passed from 
 men's thoughts." 
 
 Strange that her Highness spoke thus, for this gateway 
 is the only building of all those Friedrich raised which 
 has defied warfare and time, and stands unharmed amid 
 the ruins of Heidelberg ; and we may still read the half 
 erased inscription : 
 
 "FREDERICUS V. ELIZABETHAE CONJUGI CARISS. 
 
 A.D. M.D.C.XV. F.C." 
 
 Thus the days passed in peace. In August came the 
 news that the Empress Anne had been disappointed in 
 her hopes; nay, that these hopes had been delusion. 
 Many people laughed, some rejoiced, and notably the 
 Archduke Maximilian, who had expressed his anxiety at 
 the prospect of a regency in such violent terms that even 
 the amiable Emperor Matthias had been offended, now
 
 THE FIRST MESH IS SPUN 77 
 
 rejoiced so openly at the Empress's disappointment that 
 the Emperor's anger was thoroughly aroused. And the 
 poor, stout Empress Anne ? Who gave a thought to the 
 barren woman's sadness ? Of a truth, it is a ruthless 
 game this of intrigue and kingcraft ! 
 
 The long summer days closed in, and once more 
 autumn came to Heidelberg. The Lady Elizabeth and 
 Mistress Anne spoke of things dear to woman's heart, and 
 the embroidery frames were laid aside for delicate fabrics 
 and filmy laces. It was : " Sweet Anne, what will you 
 name the little one ? Ah ! how good 'twill be to see you 
 with a tiny sweeting of your own. If 'tis a maiden she 
 must be the little love of my boy's heart, and if God gives 
 you a man-child he will be my naughty romp's trusty 
 friend." And thus they talked and dreamed while they 
 sewed little garments for the newcomer's adorning. 
 
 Then came an autumn day when all was anxiety and 
 yet hope. For long hours the mother agonised hi vain. 
 Alas ! the feeble cry of greeting to the world was never 
 heard, and sweet Mistress Anne lay with empty arms and 
 yearning heart. Elizabeth Stuart left her neither night 
 nor day, and gave the comfort of her loving care to the 
 forlorn one. ' ' Courage, Anne ! courage ! You will bear 
 other children, you will tell other little ones of their brother 
 whom God loved too well to leave to us," she said. But 
 Mistress Anne shook her head; and one morning as the sun 
 rose in harsh splendour over the frost-glittering gardens, her 
 gentle soul followed her dead child into the eternal silence. 
 
 Deep sadness lay on Elizabeth Stuart, and she fell sick 
 from grief. As if in mercy God sent the stern-browed 
 angel Anxiety to fight the demon of despair in Schom- 
 berg's heart. He had been drawn very close to her 
 Highness in those hours near Mistress Anne's bedside, and 
 while Elizabeth lay stricken to sickness by grief, it as- 
 suaged his sorrow to watch over all and keep order in the 
 household for her Highness's sake. Yet he was so bowed 
 with sorrow, so broken, that men wondered and women 
 loved him reverently for the tribute of agony which he 
 paid to her he loved.
 
 78 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Elizabeth rose from her bed of sickness white and wan, 
 and Friedrich wrote urgently to England to pray my lady 
 of Harrington to come at once. She arrived at Heidelberg 
 shortly before Christmas, and her comfortable good sense 
 seemed the only medicine which could heal Elizabeth's pain. 
 
 " See, dear child," said my lady, " I would not have you 
 forget to mourn. Were you not sad I could not love you ; 
 but there is no beauty in unending woe. It is one of the 
 absurdities which men have fashioned, this, that the strong 
 soul when stricken must wail for ever. See here, it is 
 with the heart as with the body the wounded flesh heals 
 in time never the same again, for there must be a scar 
 where a deep wound has been ; but we do not say : ' How 
 beautiful a body it is which festers and will not heal ! ' 
 Rather we say : ' Alack ! unclean blood.' And with the 
 soul it is even so ; the strong and healthy mind heals a.nd 
 is not conquered by pain. ' Never the same again,' you 
 say, madame ? Nay, but we are never the same one 
 hour to the next, for have we not lived through that hour 
 and endured the carving hand of time ? " 
 
 Often she spoke thus to Elizabeth, and she forgot not 
 to let her weep out her grief. 
 
 Yet perchance Amalia Solms unwittingly helped her 
 Highness even more than my lady of Harrington, for she 
 applied the stinging acid of the pity of a narrow nature. 
 She spoke of Mistress Anne as "cette pauvre morte," and 
 she seemed to Elizabeth to belittle her memory by allusions 
 to her as a poor dead thing. Then, too, her assumption 
 that she could take Anne's place in Elizabeth's life stung 
 her Highness to anger, and wrath is sometimes a good 
 fresh breeze over a brooding soul. 
 
 " La lourde will drive me to a frenzy, dear Harrington," 
 she exclaimed one day when the Solms had taken upon 
 herself to command one of the tiring- women to put straight 
 her Highness's jewels. " She thinks to play my Anne's 
 part, alack ! " 
 
 " She is a good soul, madame," said my lady placidly. 
 
 " Good good ! I am weary of her goodness ! She is 
 good because there is nothing bad in her, that is her only
 
 THE FIRST MESH IS SPUN 79 
 
 merit," Elizabeth said sharply, and then a smile crept over 
 her lips and she laughed at her own ill-humour. Thus 
 through the gate which annoyance had cleft in the dark- 
 ness of her soul her sense of humour broke through, and 
 my lady of Harrington knew that her Highness's sadness 
 was lighter. 
 
 The current of life at Heidelberg flowed on peacefully 
 once more. Prince Friedrich was often called away by 
 political affairs, and when he sojourned at Heidelberg there 
 was much talk of State matters, and members of both the 
 contending parties often tarried at the castle to discuss 
 grave questions. Friedrich played his part with ardour, 
 and if he won the hearts of the Protestant princes, he also 
 endeavoured to propitiate the Catholics by his moderate 
 tone in religious matters. But he did so against the will of 
 Scultetus, whose relentless bigotry knew no half measures. 
 Another sombre influence was Duke Christian of Anhalt, 
 Ritter Christel's father. Duke Christian was a strong, 
 harsh old man of giant stature, beneath whose shaggy over- 
 hanging brows the pale blue eyes glared fiercely. It was 
 said that his religion was that of a fanatic, but those who 
 knew him nearer whispered that faith and integrity were 
 burnt out of his heart by an almost insane passion of 
 hatred of the House of Hapsburg. 
 
 Such were the two advisers who moulded the maniable 
 clay of Friedrich's weak nature, and if at first he acted 
 with moderation, and won golden opinions from friends 
 and antagonists, the poison seed of intolerance but grew 
 the stronger in his being. A visit to Munich which, as 
 her Highness was with child, he undertook alone, did not 
 mend matters. His cousin, Duke Maximilian of Bavaria, 
 spoke with him gravely and warned him to avoid those 
 persons who urged ambition upon him. " To keep what he 
 has got should be the statesman's first care, mon cousin," 
 the wily Bavarian told him. " Remember the story of the 
 dog who, having a bone in his mouth, opened his teeth to 
 snatch a joint of mutton, and so lost his bone and missed 
 the meat as well." 
 
 " But you forget that in these days it is no question of
 
 80 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 personal ambition, your Highness," cried Friedrich hotly, 
 " there is religion to be guarded and helped ; though our 
 faith is not the same, you can understand that." 
 
 " Beware of ambition dressed in a preacher's gown, 
 Palsgrave," replied Maximilian, with the astute eyes and 
 the grave, false smile. Then Friedrich, young and ardent, 
 disclosed his own honest plan. He saw the peace and 
 plenty in Bavaria, the lenient rule, the excellent order, 
 and he proposed that Maximilian should become king of 
 Bohemia at Matthias' death. Obviously the Catholic 
 princes would consent, and Friedrich promised the support 
 of the Princes of the Protestant Union, upon the sole 
 condition of religious freedom to all Protestants, both 
 Calvinist and Lutheran, in Bohemia. But Maximilian 
 would hear nothing of it ; he spoke of his faithful love of 
 the House of Hapsburg, and of his admiration for Ferdinand 
 of Styria, the acknowledged candidate for Bohemia and the 
 empire. He smiled to himself grimly; why should he 
 jeopardise his Bavaria for a tottering throne in an unruly 
 country like Bohemia ? No, he would like to be the first 
 Elector and to annex several portions of the Rhenish 
 Palatinate, but this he did not mention. 
 
 His Highness Friedrich's visit was not soothing to his 
 vanity, for he felt that Maximilian treated him like some 
 eager, imprudent boy, and, offended in his young pride, 
 his mind veered the more to Duke Christian of Anhalt 
 and Scultetus, who fostered in him the idea of his im- 
 portance as leader of the Union, and the representative 
 of German Protestantism. It were too much to say that 
 Friedrich left Munich in pique, but he was strong in his 
 desire to hasten back to Heidelberg, and love lent him 
 wings, for he longed to be with the Lady Elizabeth, and 
 dreaded lest she should be confined in his absence. And 
 he rode home so wildly through the snow drifts that he 
 reached Heidelberg in a day and a night, and his Lord 
 Chamberlain, Count Solms, with the rest of the suite, 
 arrived long after the impetuous prince. 
 
 " His Highness the Palsgrave is too ardent a lover to be 
 a statesman," said Duke Maximilian of Bavaria grimly, 
 when he heard of his kinsman's exploit.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WARNING 
 
 IN December 1617 Elizabeth's second son Charles 
 Louis was born, and all Heidelberg was astounded 
 to see Imperial ambassadors arrive from Prague to 
 honour the champions of Protestantism, and congratulate 
 their Highnesses upon the infant's birth. King James of 
 England, hearing of this, was mighty proud, and averred 
 that the Catholic world, knowing its own weakness, was 
 wooing the favour of the powerful Protestant ruler, 
 Friedrich of the Palatinate. Now her Highness Eliza- 
 beth, weary of the peaceful monotony of Heidelberg, was 
 all too ready to respond to the overtures of the Imperial 
 Court, and sent warm and friendly messages to her 
 Majesty the Empress. The portly lady proclaimed her- 
 self highly gratified, and roused herself sufficiently from 
 her lethargic ease to pen a letter to Elizabeth. She 
 wrote that she greatly desired the honour of greeting 
 her Highness ; it would be a joy to her to welcome 
 Madame I'^lectrice at Prague. 
 
 " Let us make a pilgrimage thither, my lord," cried her 
 Highness gaily ; " alack ! how slow you are, sweet sir, to 
 grasp the merriment of life ! I weary for a journey. Come, 
 let us to Prague ; I vow 'twill be hugely diverting ! " But 
 Friedrich would not consent ; he urged the perils of travel 
 through so disquiet a country as Bohemia ; and he feared 
 some disturbances among the Protestants, who might seize 
 the occasion of his visit to the Emperor to rise in revolt. 
 
 " Oh ! beloved, these constant restrictions make me 
 rage ! " she retorted. " First I would go into England, 
 then it is precedence which balks me. You cannot let 
 my brother sit higher than you at the banquets, and my 
 brother cannot give his place to you ! Then we write 
 
 81
 
 82 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 documents and my father indites whole tomes and we 
 pay half a hundred ambassadors to settle the matter but 
 the end is : her Highness does not go into England in 
 this year of grace ! " Elizabeth mimicked the portentous 
 mouthing of King James. 
 
 " But, rnon cher et unique coeur," cried Friedrich, " what 
 would you ? Now that you are restored to health there 
 shall be huntings and dancings here. The Frankfurt fair 
 in spring will provide you with many rich garments, and 
 you will be diverted and occupied in their choosing. Are 
 you so weary of me, sweet Bess ? " 
 
 " Alack ! dear heart, why should I be weary of you 
 because I crave a journey ? You have your State matters 
 to amuse you, why should I not have some interest in 
 worldly things too ? " she asked. 
 
 " It is a woman's lot, madame " he began. 
 
 " Tut ! a woman's lot ! I warrant other women yearn 
 for merriment and change as I do ! " she cried. " There, 
 sir, I see you are taking the husband's tone with me ! I 
 liked the lover's accents better." 
 
 " I am your lover, dearling, always but I cannot take 
 you to Prague," he answered. 
 
 "You are like the farmer in the old story, monseig- 
 neur ! " she retorted. " He said he would like to drive 
 his good wife to the fair, but unfortunately he and his 
 horse were going the other way, so they went to a beer 
 tavern instead." 
 
 But her Highness got her way in the end, and it was 
 decided that the visit to Prague should take place in the 
 spring. There were many preparations afoot in her 
 Highness's tiring-room ; white and coloured linen ruffs, 
 lace rebatoes of half-a-dozen different shapes and sizes, 
 new-fashioned fardingales, gorgeous brocaded overskirts, 
 bodices long in the French mode, bodices short with the 
 loose Dutch waist, shoe roses, embroidered gloves, riding 
 gauntlets, and velvet gowns for the hunt, tall felt hats 
 with drooping feathers, small velvet caps with upstand- 
 ing plumes, fans and ribbons and rosettes, fabrics of all 
 kinds, silks, taffetas, satins and velvets were strewn in her
 
 WARNING 83 
 
 Highness's tiring-room. Anxious merchants journeyed 
 from Frankfurt, where the word had been given that her 
 Highness Palatine's wardrobe was to be replenished. 
 
 Then one day in early spring, when Elizabeth returned 
 from riding, she found the Prince awaiting her at the door 
 of the Friedrich's Bau with grave and anxious mien and 
 with a mud-bespattered gentleman standing beside him. 
 
 " Captain Bell craves the honour of being presented to 
 your Highness," Prince Friedrich said, " he rides on urgent 
 business. He will tell you all when you receive him." 
 
 " I am ready to speak with you, sir, if you will follow me 
 upstairs to my audience chamber," Elizabeth said graci- 
 ously. They passed up the winding stairway, through the 
 marbled corridor, and into the tapestry-hung audience hall. 
 
 " Now, sir ! " cried her Highness impetuously, " what is 
 this business which hath brought a cloud of anxiety to 
 my husband's brow ? " 
 
 " Madame, it is indeed a grave matter I have to relate. 
 Your Highness intends to visit Prague next month, 
 and " 
 
 " Most certainly, sir, I travel to Prague in May it is 
 decided," she said coldly, and shot a glance of angry 
 suspicion at Prince Friedrich, whose reluctancy she still 
 resented. 
 
 " Your Highness goes at the risk of her life then," said 
 Bell, " there is a plot, madame, of which I have proof." 
 
 " I go as the guest of her Majesty the Empress and 
 under her protection. I shall be safe," returned Elizabeth 
 haughtily. 
 
 " Madame, I implore you to listen to me. The Em- 
 press, of course, knows nothing of this hideous plot " 
 
 " Captain Bell, we are living in the year of grace six- 
 teen hundred and seventeen, we are no longer in the dark 
 ages when murder was an ordinary matter. These are 
 fond tales, sir, I will not hearken," she said. Bell drew 
 a bundle of papers from his tunic. 
 
 " Read, madame," he answered. She took the papers 
 and spread them on a table. 
 
 " Some are in cypher, sir, I cannot read them. Ah
 
 84 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 here is one in German and another in Italian. ' Touch- 
 ing the sleeping potion for an illustrious lady, I have 
 a delicious medicine which gives long sleep,' " she read 
 aloud, " ' sweet to the taste but very faint, not notice- 
 able if mixed with wine, recommended to be used with 
 good potent Malvoisie.' Tut, sir, this is some apothe- 
 cary's formula, some doctor suing for patronage and 
 setting forth the excellence of a soothing draught," she 
 said impatiently. 
 
 " If your Highness will read the signature the sinister 
 import is but too clear," the Englishman said. She turned 
 the document around. 
 
 " Theophania Theophania ? I know not the name," 
 she said in a musing tone. 
 
 " Yet it is a name known throughout Europe, madam e. 
 Theophania is the drug-wife of Naples, and her name 
 has been mentioned in every poison trial of the last ten 
 years," he answered. " She ranks higher in her horrible 
 craft than Mrs. Turner of London," he added. Elizabeth 
 started. 
 
 " She has paid for her crimes, sir ; I will not hear 
 mention of her," she said quickly. 
 
 " Madame, I crave forgiveness for my plain speaking. 
 Theophania has boasted that, an she had had the poison- 
 ing of Sir Thomas Overbury, none could have traced her 
 drugs. Her victims die swiftly, and by a gentle ceasing 
 of the life's pulses ; there is no struggle, no pain, and no 
 trace in or on the body." He spoke quietly. 
 
 " How got you this knowledge, sir ? How came you 
 by these papers ? " she asked. 
 
 " Your Highness, I am a soldier of fortune. Till re- 
 cently I served with the imperial troops against the 
 Turks. Lately I have been in Vienna, lodged in the 
 house of a priest. One night when he thought me at a 
 tavern, I had come home early. My bedchamber was 
 near his parlour, I heard voices, and as I lay a-bed I heard 
 the mention of your name. I listened, and I heard that 
 as you are a danger to the Catholics, you are to be put 
 away secretly. I heard the stranger's voice say that he
 
 WARNING 85 
 
 was the agent of the Archduke Maximilian. All know 
 how that prince inclines to the use of poison ; did he 
 not propose to Ferdinand of Styria to remove Bishop 
 Klesl, when the favourite stood in their way in the suc- 
 cession question ? Your Highness will remember that 
 the plan leaked out, and made much talk three years 
 ago ? Well, madame, there was mention of poison both 
 for your Highness and for your son ; the Elector Pala- 
 tine would seem to commit suicide from grief but that 
 plan was only slightly worked out ; I heard no more, for 
 they spoke low. The next morning my friend the priest 
 was busied in the copying of various documents. I pro- 
 posed to him to drink a cup of sack with me. He said 
 he had no time to go abroad, and went on writing. I 
 hurried to the tavern, bought two bottles of sack ; then 
 I went to a friendly apothecary, told him that I was near 
 mad with sleeplessness, and he gave me a drug the half of 
 which he vowed would throw me into a slumber for long 
 hours. I put the whole contents of the phial into one 
 of the bottles of sack and went home. The priest was 
 still writing. I told him I would give him a feast, and 
 pressed him to go to the tavern with me ; then when he 
 refused, as I had judged he would, I pretended to re- 
 member I had two flasks of sack packed away. I fetched 
 them. We began to drink the undrugged wine. By a 
 seeming false movement, I upset both his glass and the 
 flask. We made merry, and I opened the drugged flask 
 and poured it into his glass ; he drank, while I sipped 
 my wine, which had come from the other bottle. Fin- 
 ally, madame, the priest fell into a heavy slumber, and I 
 was at liberty to examine the papers on his table. I 
 copied them, one and all, and these are they." He 
 pointed at the documents which her Highness held in 
 her hand. " Two days I tarried in Vienna, leading the 
 usual lazy life of the unemployed soldier, then I gave 
 out I must ride to Prague to seek better work. I took 
 a hearty farewell of the priest, who suspected nothing, 
 rode off towards Prague, then turned westward, and I 
 am here at your Highness's service."
 
 86 
 
 " I thank you, sir," she answered, " but I must ask you 
 why you have thus risked yourself to save me ? " 
 
 " Madame, I have told you I am a soldier of fortune." 
 He shrugged his shoulders. " I was out of work and 
 getting no pay from the Emperor. One service is as 
 good as another to me, and it would have been an ugly 
 thought to me that a woman had been poisoned and that 
 I could have warned her and had not done so." 
 
 " Your frankness pleases me, sir," Elizabeth said with 
 a smile, " but I cannot credit your story for all that." 
 
 " Your Highness, I am a rough man who earns his 
 bread by warfare. When I came hither I had under- 
 taken to warn you in the hope of payment for my 
 trouble. I will take no pay from you now, as you will not 
 credit my good faith. I have warned you, and I crave 
 permission to go on my way." He bowed awkwardly, and 
 turned towards the door. Prince Friedrich, who had 
 stood silent during this colloquy, laid a hand on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "Stay, sir," he said, "I will drive a bargain with her 
 Highness. Madame, will you at least trust Captain Bell 
 to carry these papers into England ? Let him tell his tale 
 to his Majesty, and bring us his advice in answer." 
 
 " Why this, dear my lord ? " she cried impatiently. 
 " I journey to Prague in a few weeks' time ; when this 
 gentleman returns out of England he will find me visiting 
 her Majesty the Empress." 
 
 " Then, sir, I commission you to ride in all haste into 
 England. Pray God you will return here in time to 
 hinder our journey to Prague if his Majesty's wisdom 
 deems it safer for us to stay at home," said Friedrich. 
 " Madame, will you consent to this, and give me your 
 promise to obey King James if he counsels abandonment 
 of the visit ? " 
 
 ' Why should my father know more of this than 
 we ? " she asked. 
 
 " Will you give me your promise, madame ? " Friedrich 
 repeated anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, an my father can adduce good reasons for not
 
 WARNING 87 
 
 going to Prague, I will obey Then hasten, Captain 
 Bell, you have three weeks to ride to England and 
 back ; longer I will not tarry," she said, laughing. 
 
 " Why this mad plan, beloved ? " she said when Bell 
 had left ; " why should my father be gifted with such 
 penetration as to be especially able to judge of the truth 
 of this absurd tale ? " 
 
 " Bell is an Englishman, dear heart. If his story is a 
 mere pretext for gaining gold, he will not ride to England, 
 and we shall never hear more of him," said Friedrich. 
 
 " Yes, that is wise ; meanwhile, dear love, you err an 
 you think I shall cease my preparations for our journey," 
 she said gaily. 
 
 The days passed quickly, and her Highness's wardrobe 
 waxed, also Elizabeth's impatience to start on her journey 
 to Prague. If she gave Bell and his grim warning a 
 thought, it was as to some past slight annoyance. She 
 did not expect to see the adventurer return to Heidel- 
 berg. He had been given a purse of gold and a remount 
 for his trouble, as Prince Friedrich had believed the man 
 to have been hi earnest. " Although he might be a 
 dupe, he was no rascal," his Highness had remarked. 
 
 The visit was fixed for the middle of May, but towards 
 the end of April a letter from her Majesty the Empress 
 was brought to Heidelberg. It informed their High- 
 nesses Palatine that the Emperor purposed summoning 
 the Diet of the Empire to Ratisbon towards the 20th of 
 May, and therefore her Majesty must renounce the honour 
 of receiving their Highnesses in Prague for the nonce, but 
 she prayed Elizabeth and her eldest son to accompany 
 the Elector to Ratisbon. The Empress added that the 
 journey thither from Heidelberg would prove less arduous 
 than the long road to Prague, and that the unsettled state 
 of Bohemia rendered travelling both unsafe and un- 
 pleasant. 
 
 " And this friendly, anxious lady is the cruel monster 
 who would poison me an she could ! " cried Elizabeth as 
 she handed the missive to his Highness. " It is now a 
 full month since Captain Bell rode to England. Methinks
 
 88 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 we shall ne'er set eyes on him again. So I shall see 
 Ratisbon and the Imperial Court at last ! " 
 
 As the appointed time for their Highnesses' departure 
 drew near, Elizabeth was in a fever of excitement ; she 
 loved change, and it was given to her to enjoy peace and 
 content, but withal to endure a certain monotony at 
 Heidelberg. The departure was fixed for a Tuesday, 
 and on the preceding Monday her Highness had ordered 
 a grand ball to be held in the Hall of Mirrors. From 
 the neighbouring castles the lords and ladies were bidden 
 to the feast, and on the morning the town of Heidelberg 
 was filled with constantly arriving companies of horse- 
 men, and sometimes a heavy, swaying, springless vehicle, 
 gilded and carven, awakened the curiosity of the towns- 
 folk, for such carriages were rare enough in those days 
 and only the nobles owned them. In fact the purchase 
 of a carosse was deemed a weighty matter, especially 
 as, for the most part, these lumbering monsters were 
 built in far-off Ghent by the famous master-builders of 
 Flanders. When a carosse was delivered to the pur- 
 chaser the master-builder travelled all the way with his 
 masterpiece, and gave it over with much formality. 
 There were a-many carriages, fully a hundred and fifty, 
 in the rich and peaceful Palatinate, not counting, of 
 course, her Highness Palatine's own caresses. 
 
 The ladies who travelled in these coaches were shaken 
 and jolted cruelly, and even the shortest journey was an 
 adventurous undertaking, for the roads were so rough 
 that it constantly happened that a wheel would stick in 
 the heavy mud or become wedged in some deep rut, and 
 then my lady and her family would be obliged to descend 
 and stand waiting by the roadside while my lord and his 
 attendants laboured to set up the toppling, ungainly, 
 carven and gilded vehicle ; yet it was so grand a thing to 
 own a coach, it was so splendid to arrive at a town in such 
 opulence, that my lady preferred any discomfort, and pro- 
 fessed herself astounded at her mother's and grandmother's 
 misfortune in having been obliged to travel a-horseback or 
 strapped into a pillion behind some stout serving-man.
 
 WARNING 89 
 
 " The Goldene Hirsch," the beautiful renaissance hos- 
 telry, was full of guests, for it was not every noble family 
 which possessed a palace in Heidelberg, though there were 
 many tall gabled houses in the narrow streets which were 
 known by high-sounding names, such as : the Hirschorn 
 Palace, the House Ingelheim, Ritter von Diebsberg's Man- 
 sion, and the rest. It was a gay scene, and as a sign of 
 the changed times the old men noticed that there were no 
 broils ending in bloodshed, and that though the serving- 
 men jostled and quarrelled, their lords were affable and 
 friendly to each other. Yes, it was a time of peace and 
 prosperity ; war and feud had vanished for ever, it seemed, 
 from the quiet Rhineland. " Pray God we may never see 
 the old dark days return," they said. Yet they looked 
 back to the vanished turbulent times with regret, these 
 old men ; " it was a merry life withal," they said. But, in 
 truth, it was for their own youth that they yearned, youth 
 which made life so splendidly poignant both in joy and 
 pain, youth shining in the mirror of remembrance, and 
 time had blurred the mirror so that all they saw were the 
 good old days however bad they were the good old 
 days when they were young. 
 
 Towards four of the clock a number of guests made 
 their way up the narrow stone-paved road to the castle. 
 Several coaches lumbered slowly up, the horses straining 
 at the traces and almost slipping. backwards on the steep 
 incline. 
 
 First there was a banquet in the newly finished hall 
 of the Englische Bau, a vast room hung with tapestries 
 depicting hunting scenes, and lit by hundreds of candles 
 whose light fell discreetly on the silks and satins of the 
 women's gowns, and lit the splendour of their flashing 
 jewels. Her Highness Elizabeth was right merry and 
 gracious, and her white satin gown of the newest mode 
 was the object of much attention on the part of the lady 
 guests. Prince Friedrich, too, was richly attired in ivory- 
 coloured satin, with hugely puffed breeches and silken hose, 
 long flat-toed shoes with jewelled roses, a doublet slashed 
 with silver, and a stiff square ruff of fine linen edged with
 
 90 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 lace. Prince Christel was splendid in an azure doublet, 
 and even his father, fierce old Anhalt, had donned a gar- 
 ment of purple velvet slashed and puffed in the latest 
 design, although he had strenuously refused to alter his 
 short cut of hair to suit the present mode of falling love- 
 locks. " I have kept my head trimmed all my days, and 
 to affect a jackanapes mode, sir, and go with my hair 
 falling on to my ruff no, sir, by my redemption ! no, 
 sir ! " he had bawled at the simpering barber. 
 
 The banquet lasted long, for in 1 6 1 7 a feast meant solid 
 eating and drinking. The dishes were over a hundred and 
 sixty in number, not counting the sweetmeats ; for it had 
 been considered shame to a kitchen-master had he omitted 
 the serving of any beast, bird, or fish to be procured in the 
 countryside. There were wild boars' heads, pigs roasted 
 whole, barons of beef, entire sheep, whole deer, hares and 
 wild birds, capons and geese, swans and peacocks, eels, and 
 perch, and salmon, and trout, and two different sorts of 
 soups, and pasties and tarts, and sweetmeats for the 
 womenkind. Each guest had a spoon and knife, and a 
 goblet for his own use ; and so wonderful was the luxury 
 and refinement at Heidelberg that several times during the 
 banquet the guests were given clean platters of silver and 
 even of gold. Often, too, pages presented the revellers with 
 bowls filled with lavender-scented water wherein to wash, 
 and delicate linen napkins wherewith to dry their hands. 
 
 At eight of the clock the guests assembled in the Hall 
 of Mirrors, and the musicians struck up a gay yet stately 
 measure. Old Anhalt led out the Electress Juliane, 
 Prince Friedrich danced with the Lady of Hirschhorn, 
 while her Highness Elizabeth gave her hand to Prince 
 Christel. In stiff and stately grace the old Electress 
 paced across the marble floor in the sliding, swaying steps 
 of the ancient pavyn, and Prince Friedrich followed with 
 the dignified portly Lady of Hirschhorn. 
 
 " Do you know, sweet cousin, the words which go with 
 this pavyn tune ? " whispered Christel as they stood at 
 the upper end of the hall, while the other couples accom- 
 plished their solemn dance.
 
 WARNING 91 
 
 " Are there words to it, Christel ? " she answered ; " say 
 them to me as we dance." She gave him her hand, and 
 commenced the slow, gliding motion. He lifted her hand 
 high, and bending towards her he murmured as they swept 
 forward through the long room : 
 
 " Belle qui tiens ma vie 
 Captive sous tes yeulx, 
 Qui m'as 1'ame ravie 
 D'un sourire gracieux, 
 Viens tot me secourir 
 Ou me fauldra mourir." 
 
 The verse was indeed that of the ancient pavyn melody ; 
 it fell from his lips in rhythm to the stately measure, 
 and as he whispered the last words the dance ended, 
 and he bowed low, while Elizabeth Stuart bent in a deep 
 obeisance. 
 
 " Do not die yet, cousin," she said, laughing ; " you shall 
 woo me to dance at Ratisbon, and we will tread a pavyn 
 once more together." She turned towards the Electress- 
 mother. " I shall not dance a galliard so early in the 
 night's pleasure, ma mere. We will watch the merry 
 ones a-hopping it." The music rang out in a tripping, 
 hurried measure, and in an instant the hall was full of 
 energetic dancers. Her Highness sat beside Juliane. 
 
 " A galliard is an absurd thing," she said gaily. " Look ! 
 ma mere one, two, three, four, hop and spring ! It is 
 mighty diverting to dance it, but a monstrous silly 
 sight ! " 
 
 " Ah ! ma fille, when I first came here from Holland 
 they danced the volte at court ! Have you never seen 
 one ? Well, the peasants dance it still, and I warrant an 
 we asked the Lady of Hirschhorn she would be ready to 
 show it us," answered Juliane. 
 
 " We will ask her ; we must ask her ! " cried the im- 
 petuous one. " Dear lady, will you tread a volte for me 
 to see ? " she called to the lady, who stood near. 
 
 " Tread a volte ? " the worthy Hirschhorn answered, with 
 a good-humoured laugh. " Your Highness, there is mighty
 
 92 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 little treading in a volte, and I am too old by twenty 
 summers for such a jigging." 
 
 But Elizabeth Stuart, like a child in the vehemence of 
 her wishes, importuned the Lady of Hirschhorn : it was, 
 " Oh, madame, pray dance me a volte ! " and " Sweet 
 madam e, you are as young as a fine midsummer day. 
 Do pace me the volte ! " till at length the worthy matron 
 confessed that her niece Margarete Handschusheim knew 
 the old jig, and that the junker of Hirschhorn had often 
 danced it at the village kermess. Then her Highness 
 called for the tune. Here was another difficulty; the 
 musicians knew it well, but they declared that the old 
 dudelsack, the shrill, wind-blown peasant pipes, was needed 
 to play it aright. Off to the menials' quarters sped pages 
 and cavaliers, and soon the piper was brought to the Hall 
 of Mirrors. 
 
 Hans Hirschhorn and Margarete joined their left 
 hands ; with his right hand he grasped her firmly at 
 the back, while with her right hand she held down 
 her skirts in front. They gave a little hop to the left, 
 two long steps to the right and then it was evident 
 why the Junker grasped his partner at the back, and 
 why she held down her skirts in front, for there followed 
 three mighty springs in the air, and the lady was 
 flung up and forward till her skirts swirled dangerously 
 high ! Ever faster squeaked the pipes, ever quicker hopped 
 and jumped the dancers. No graceful, courtly dance 
 indeed, but hilarious and rough. And Elizabeth Stuart 
 laughed until her eyes were dim with merriment's tears. 
 As if the spirit of gaiety had banished ceremony from the 
 Hall of Mirrors, laughter took the place of grave decorum, 
 and dance after dance of olden days succeeded one another 
 that evening. There were the galliard and the branle, the 
 courante and the bassedance, and her Highness Elizabeth 
 tripped and jigged with all the zest of her healthful youth. 
 How she laughed, too, when they told her the words of 
 the galliard tunes : " J'aimerais mieux dormir seulette," 
 " Baisons nous Belle, la lune ne voit pas," and the rest of 
 the fond old rhymes.
 
 WARNING 93 
 
 Some one proposed to dance a roundel, and there was 
 no lack of choice of these rollicking, old-fashioned dances. 
 There was " La Lavandiere," a playful ring with hand- 
 clapping, mimic chasing of partners, and as termination 
 a circle formed by the dancers singing a spirited chorus. 
 Then came the "Branle a la Haye," whose delicious 
 finale gave each cavalier the right to kiss his lady on the 
 cheek. 
 
 " Cousin, cousin ! " laughed his Highness to Prince 
 Christel, " I would have dared to stake mine honour that 
 you would dance the ' Branle des Baisers ' with my Lady 
 Elizabeth." 
 
 "And I would have risked my soul for so sweet a 
 dance ! " Christel answered. Her Highness, who stood 
 near, laughed lightly. 
 
 " I challenge you, cousin Christel, to dance a branle 
 with me at Ratisbon at the solemn feast. And you, my 
 lord," she cried, turning to Prince Friedrich, " you, dear 
 my lord, shall hop a volte with her portly Majesty of 
 Austria ! " 
 
 As she spoke it seemed to her that a chill breath of 
 pending evil touched her, and the laughter froze on her 
 lips. She turned away from Prince Friedrich and Christel, 
 and seating herself she passed her white fingers wearily 
 across her brow. 
 
 At the doorway there was a sudden confusion among 
 the laughing crowd, and a tall gaunt figure in a shabby 
 doublet burst through the finely arrayed throng of revel- 
 lers. A man with blanched and haggard face, with wild 
 eyes and ill-trimmed beard, shouldered his way roughly 
 past the astonished dancers. As he passed up the long 
 hall towards Elizabeth Stuart a hush fell on the assembly. 
 He seemed to be the incarnation of the sinister, and the 
 mirrors on the walls reflected the gaunt figure and made 
 the one man's advent appear like the advance of a hundred 
 grim intruders. It was as though the thousand candles 
 in the crystal chandeliers shed a fainter radiance, as 
 though this one figure of gloom had in very fact cast a 
 shadow on the gay scene.
 
 94 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 The man fell on his knees before her Highness. " Thank 
 God ! I am returned in time, madarne ! " he said hoarsely. 
 
 " Captain Bell ! " she cried, springing up. " Sir, what 
 message of ill-fortune do you bring ? " 
 
 " Madame go not to Prague ! " he cried wildly. 
 
 " To Prague ? Nay I journey to-morrow to the Im- 
 perial Court at Ratisbon," she answered. 
 
 " Go not go not I have proof poison." He choked, 
 and clutched at the neckband of his stiff pickadell. 
 
 " Poison " he muttered, and with a groan fell forward 
 
 senseless at her Highness's feet.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE WEB 
 
 " While hunters bold ride homeward with the spoil ; 
 
 While bugles ring, and forest echoes cry ; 
 While mowers laugh, while reapers sing and toil ; 
 
 While vintage bands go, like a revel, by ; 
 While bridals pass, while poor men bless, 
 
 While Yule is blithe, while summer fair, 
 Oh ! would'st thou change the flowing songs of peace 
 For triumphs, and despair ? " 
 
 FREDERICK TENNYSON. 
 
 IT was a sinister ending to the merriment, and the 
 guests hurrying away from the castle whispered 'that 
 the shabby stranger must have brought news of dire 
 import. It seemed that he had ridden to the gate on a 
 steed so wretchedly weary that the ostlers, who had led the 
 trembling animal to the stables, had feared that the poor 
 beast would die incontinent. The rider himself had refused 
 food and rest, had drained a cup of sack, had changed his 
 dusty garments, and had hurried to the Hall of Mirrors. 
 Such haste, such neglect of self, proclaimed him to be the 
 bearer of disastrous tidings, the guests contended. 
 
 In the Hall of Mirrors the waxen candles flared and 
 guttered in the silver sockets, and the dawn peeped 
 through the windows at a group of persons in gay attire 
 standing around a haggard man in a shabby doublet. Her 
 Highness Elizabeth, seated in the gilded chair, whence a 
 short hour since she had watched the volte dancers, leaned 
 her head wearily on her hand. Louise Juliane stood near, 
 and her hand rested on Prince Friedrich's shoulder. Old 
 Prince Christian of Anhalt, with frowning brows, stood 
 erect and fierce, his eyes aflame with hatred and anger. 
 Prince Christel stood behind her Highness's chair ; Master 
 Scultetus, sombre and grim, and Count Schomberg were 
 
 95
 
 96 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 there, and Arnalia Solms, who clung to my Lady of Har- 
 rington in hysterical fear. Captain Bell, returned to con- 
 sciousness, had been plied with food and wine, and now 
 was telling his story in quick, short sentences. He told 
 how he had journeyed into England almost without draw- 
 ing bridle, but that, arrived in London, he had found that 
 King James was at Theobalds. The Duke of Buckingham, 
 however, had been at his lodging in the Palace of White- 
 hall, and Bell had craved audience of his Grace, which had 
 been promised. He had waited four days in the duke's 
 antechamber, but the crowd of petitioners had been so 
 great that each day he had been sent away without speech 
 of his Grace. " I had no gold or not enough to purchase 
 such an honour," he said bitterly. At last he had hidden 
 in the embrasure of one of the windows, and after waiting 
 many hours had been rewarded by seeing my lord duke 
 come into the antechamber on his way to his barge, which 
 waited at the river steps. He had flung himself on his 
 knees before Buckingham, and though the attendants had 
 endeavoured to drag him away, his loud cry that he sought 
 not office or advancement, but that he brought news of her 
 Highness Palatine, had arrested the duke's attention. He 
 had shown him the papers and told his story, and his 
 Grace had despatched him to Theobalds with credentials 
 which procured him immediate audience of King James. 
 " I found his Majesty in the gardens in the midst of a 
 game of bowls, and in the intervals of the game his 
 Majesty listened to my tale and glanced at the papers. 
 He averred that it was all a trumped-up history. There 
 was one document in Latin, and the King was soon engaged 
 in pointing out the faults of grammar and style therein. 
 He rated me soundly when I said I knew little of Latin, 
 and he then plunged into a learned discourse on the ' dear 
 humanities,' and the necessity of learning for the proper 
 understanding of life. I cried out that an none hastened 
 to stay the Lady Elizabeth's journey to the Imperial Court, 
 her understanding of life would be completed by the know- 
 ledge of death ; but his Majesty in wrath bade me begone, 
 saying that haste and wisdom did ne'er walk hand in hand
 
 THE WEB 97 
 
 that I had haste and he had wisdom. He named me 
 a ' domned fule,' " Bell added, with a short laugh. Her 
 Highness smiled. 
 
 " You bring me a very breath of home, sir," she said 
 lightly ; " but hasten to the end of your story." 
 
 " Well, madame, I rode back to London to his Grace of 
 Buckingham, gave him the papers, and set myself to wait. 
 Days passed, and at length I decided to return hither and 
 tell your Highness what had occurred, and the very morn- 
 ing I was prepared to depart I was summoned to White- 
 hall to his Majesty. News had come, both from Vienna 
 and from Sir Henry Wotton out of Italy, that there was 
 something afoot against your Highness, and this, taken 
 with the papers I had brought, convinced his Majesty of 
 the danger. The poison is ready, madame ; Death awaits 
 you at Ratisbon, or wherever you visit the Imperial Court." 
 
 " Have you no letter from his Majesty ? " inquired her 
 Highness. 
 
 " Your pardon, madame ! " Bell answered, " I have 
 despatches here. Forgive me ; but I have ridden from 
 Whitehall in six days, and I am near mad with 
 weariness." 
 
 " Sir, I thank you for your devotion," said Elizabeth 
 kindly, " and I will not go to Ratisbon ! " A tear stole 
 down her cheek. 
 
 " Dear my heart ! " whispered Friedrich, " you are weary 
 and alarmed by this fearful thing. Do not weep, sweet 
 madame, you are safe here." 
 
 " Nay, I but give a tear to Fate, who always prevents 
 my diverting myself ! I will not go to Ratisbon, but I am 
 mighty loth to give up the jaunt. Good lack ! I vow I 
 am weary of safety ! " she cried. 
 
 Thus it fell out that the projected journey to the 
 Imperial Court did not take place. Once more life at 
 Heidelberg resumed its peaceful course ; albeit a breath 
 of unrest, an unwonted sense of some unnamed menace, 
 seemed to brood over all. The hunts and banquets, the 
 long quiet days of drowsy peace went their accustomed 
 
 G
 
 98 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 way, and no events of importance came to rob Heidelberg 
 of its easy, bappy security of commonplace, familiar life. 
 And yet, from tbe bour wben Bell had interrupted tbe 
 dancing in tbe Hall of Mirrors, there was some elusive 
 hint of danger and change underlying the stillness. Louise 
 Juliane, during her frequent visits to the Castle, felt this 
 undefined menace ; her Highness Elizabeth, too, was aware 
 of it, but she ascribed it to the restless weariness which 
 prolonged monotony, even of ease, breeds in " a living 
 woman," as she said. To evade this irksome sense of 
 pending evil she flung herself even more than of yore into 
 gaieties. There was hunting, dancing, play-acting, and 
 merry journeys to Amberg ; inspections of the stronghold 
 at Mannheim ; secret visits to Frankfurt, where her High- 
 ness went disguised in a burgher-dame's sober gown of 
 mokkadoe, with no fardingale but ample skirts, and on her 
 head a broad-brimmed plain hat, and to hide her laughing 
 face her black-velvet mask. This latter spoiled the disguise 
 of an ordinary burgher's wife ; but in the crowded narrow 
 streets few stayed to notice, and if they did observe her, 
 the merchants believed that she was some patrician's lady 
 playing her naughty pranks, and well disguised for fear of 
 her good man's ire. 
 
 Yet no merrymaking and diversion could hide from the 
 whole Court that Prince Friedrich was morose and anxious, 
 and that each day his confabulations with Master Scultetus 
 grew longer. Constantly messengers arrived bearing im- 
 portant letters from all parts of Europe, and often the grey 
 dawn came through the windows of his Highness's writing- 
 room, and peered at the wan young face bending over a 
 pile of closely written sheets, while a harsh-featured, 
 black- clad Calvinist stood near, like the incarnation of 
 care and inexorable purpose. Above this writing-room 
 was a chamber where, in a great damask-hung bed, a 
 woman lay asleep so the dawn saw and could the 
 peering Dawn have looked into the man's heart, she would 
 have seen that he laboured and intrigued but to make 
 this woman a queen ; though had the Dawn been able to 
 read the man's thoughts, she would have found that he
 
 THE WEB 99 
 
 called his lover's ambition by the name of Religion, for so 
 did the heart trick the brain. 
 
 Small marvel that Prince Friedrich's brow was clouded 
 with anxiety, for, as Juliane had long dreaded, he was being 
 steadily sucked into the whirlpool of European intrigue. 
 It was about this time that Count Ernest Mansfeld came 
 to Heidelberg. His father had been a boon companion 
 of Friedrich IV. of the Palatine, but the bastard Ernest 
 Mansfeld had spent years in the service of many masters, 
 and had found no occasion to visit Heidelberg, the abode of 
 peace. War was his art, and he was a famous and skilful 
 captain. Her Highness Elizabeth was amused and attracted 
 by the soldier of fortune's recklessness, and he, on his 
 side, fell a victim to her potent charm. She named 
 him " Monsieur le Brigand," and he rejoined shrewdly 
 that a brigand's sword was sometimes a surer friend 
 than many a prince's. Old Christian of Anhalt, who, 
 having been out with the Palatine troops in the 
 Cleves-Julich Succession affair, considered himself a 
 great captain, though, in truth, he had scarce smelled 
 the scent of powder and carnage, and had never led even 
 a company into battle old Anhalt frowned at the con- 
 dottiere's audacious saying, and from that day forward 
 held him in disfavour. 
 
 The Princes of the Protestant Union were frequent 
 visitors at Heidelberg at this time. There came his 
 Highness the Elector of Saxony, rough, uncouth, a devout 
 lover of the flowing bowl, and a very Nimrod of the 
 chase ; but when for an hour he was not hunting, nor his 
 brain swamped in liquor, he was a shrewd, unscrupulous 
 man. Even in his cups he could hold long theological 
 discourses with Master Scultetus, and high words were 
 often exchanged, for John George of Saxony was a con- 
 vinced Lutheran, and he hated Calvinistic dogma almost 
 more than the doctrine of the Church of Rome. Caustic 
 sayings, too, passed between him and old Anhalt, for the 
 Saxon was well disposed towards the House of Hapsburg, 
 and Anhalt knew no measure in his hatred of the 
 " Austrian oppressors," as he named them.
 
 100 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 The Bohemians had offered their crown in 1614 to John 
 George ; but the Saxon, partly too loyal to the Emperor, 
 partly too lazy and attached to his drunken ease, or per- 
 chance too wily, in or out of his cups, had refused the offer ; 
 and after years of intrigue by all par ties, Ferdinand of Styria 
 had at length been crowned King of Bohemia in 1617. 
 
 Another personage who often sojourned at Heidelberg's 
 Court was Prince Friedrich's brother-in-law, George 
 William, son of the Elector of Brandenburg. A feeble, 
 undistinguished creature this Hohenzollern, a man for 
 ever fearful of committing himself. " Our fond brother 
 sits eternally on a stile between two fields," Elizabeth 
 was wont to say of him. " He could ne'er be a foe save 
 through fear for his own skin, but God grant I may never 
 need to depend on his friendship ! " Alas ! it was destined 
 that she should turn to George William of Brandenburg 
 in her direst need, and find him so weak a friend that a 
 generous and chivalrous foe would have stood her in 
 better stead. 
 
 The Princes of the Union were much occupied with 
 Bohemian affairs, and Friedrich of the Palatinate in especial 
 concerned himself with this sorry business. Urged by 
 Scultetus, he had repeatedly sent monies to aid the 
 Bohemian church-builders, and he had secretly encouraged 
 the malcontent nobles to hope for his help, if their dis- 
 affection towards the Emperor should end in open revolt. 
 In fact Heidelberg, from being a court of love and gaiety, 
 had become the gloomy centre of Protestant intrigue ; and 
 Friedrich, feeble, honest, rash, and enthusiastic, was the 
 unstable pivot whereon the machinations of Europe turned 
 a frail pivot, bent for ever in one direction by a strong, 
 relentless hand, by the fierce, bony fingers of Scultetus, the 
 bigoted, ambitious Calvinist. Wretched pivot ! a man 
 with a heart burning with a woman's beauty, and a 
 weak, ardent soul tortured by a cruel religion ! 
 
 Europe was a maze of intrigue at this time : intrigues 
 in England for and against the Spanish match between 
 Prince Charles and the Infanta ; France intriguing for his 
 marriage with a French princess ; Holland negotiating for
 
 THE WEB 101 
 
 his hand for a German highness ; and all this matrimonial 
 web around the actual prizes of ducats, religion, power. 
 The Duke of Savoy was intriguing to become emperor 
 himself, and in secret documents was assigning the crown 
 of Bohemia to Prince Friedrich ; or in a second mysterious 
 arrangement he allotted Hungary to Friedrich, besides 
 Alsace and a slice of Austria, while for himself he de- 
 cided to take Bohemia. The Catholic princes of the 
 League also amused themselves with reportioning Central 
 Europe, at the expense, of course, of the Protestant princes. 
 And all these plans and plots were brought to Heidelberg 
 in confidential writings and by secret messengers from the 
 Protestant schemers, and by spies upon the Catholic party. 
 Openly Europe was at peace, but men's hearts were black 
 with lust of power, and religion fired the slime of greedy 
 ambition till it rose up in a boiling vapour and hung over 
 the world as a lowering cloud of war. 
 
 For many months the talk at Heidelberg had been of 
 the new Protestant churches in Bohemia. Not only in the 
 council chamber with Master Scultetus, but at the banquet 
 board and in her Highness's presence the question was 
 endlessly discussed. 
 
 " My lord, my dear lord ! I am weary of Braunau and 
 Klostergrab ! " Elizabeth cried one day. But the shadow 
 on Prince Friedrich's brow deepened, and her Highness 
 set herself to listen patiently. 
 
 " The whole future of Protestantism depends upon the 
 settlements regarding these two churches, madame," Scul- 
 tetus said. 
 
 " Tell me, then, Hochwiirden ; I am not clear as to the 
 facts," she answered a little wearily. It was a grey, un- 
 friendly March day, and the wind howled dismally round 
 the " Dicke Thurm " and shook the windows of her High- 
 ness's withdrawing room. Elizabeth sat at her embroidery 
 frame, and Prince Friedrich had drawn a low tabouret and 
 sat near her. A log-fire blazed in the open grate, and 
 Jacko the monkey crouched close to the warmth. Her 
 Highness's spaniel lay at her feet, eyeing Master Scultetus' 
 thin legs with an unfriendly gaze. Ever and anon a burst
 
 102 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 of laughter came from the ante-chamber, and Prince 
 Christel's voice was heard as he jested with the courtiers. 
 
 " Your highness may remember that the Braunau and 
 Klostergrab affair has been playing some time ? " Scultetus 
 began. 
 
 " We have spoken of it for the last hundred and ten 
 years, methinks, sir," Elizabeth interrupted lightly. Scul- 
 tetus stared at her for a moment in a puzzled way ; then 
 his stern face grew sterner. 
 
 " This is no laughing matter, madame," he said harshly. 
 " Our persecuted brethren in Bohemia " 
 
 Again she interrupted. 
 
 " My persecuted brethren, Master Scultetus ; they are 
 Lutherans and therefore my brethren. Whatever you 
 may be to the Bohemians, you are no friend to German 
 Lutherans, sir ; your Calvinistic conscience forbids it ! " 
 
 " Your Highness," he answered gravely, though a 
 flush of embarrassment glowed on his lean cheek, " your 
 Highness, the cause of religious freedom, the strife 
 against the scarlet woman of Rome, enlists our united 
 strength. We do not remember the errors of Luther 
 when we are fighting side by side with Lutherans against 
 the thrice-accursed idolatry of Rome." 
 
 " Then, sir, I am to understand that it is only during 
 times of peace that Calvinists and Lutherans revile one 
 another ; nay, would kill each other an they could," she 
 said coldly. 
 
 " Alas, madame, we fight Luther's lax rule, his Popish 
 ritual which the Lutherans have retained from the 
 hideous ceremonies of olden time. But when Rome 
 oppresses we must needs join hands to fight Antichrist," 
 he answered. 
 
 " Master Scultetus, a Church divided against itself can 
 never conquer a Church united," she replied quietly. 
 
 " The Word of God shall triumph in the end ! When 
 Romish error has vanished with the other heathen idola- 
 tries, then shall the pure and perfect teaching of Calvin 
 speak so plainly to the misled Lutherans that they will 
 voluntarily renounce their errors," he said. Her Highness's
 
 THE WEB 103 
 
 hand fell listlessly from her embroidery, she leaned her 
 head against the back of her chair. 
 
 " I am no theologian, sir ; I beg you expound the history 
 of Braunau and Klostergrab," she said, and a sigh of 
 weariness parted her lips. 
 
 " As your Highness is aware, the Protestants of Braunau 
 had built a tabernacle unto the Lord. The Popish abbot 
 of the monastery at Braunau, after cruelly persecuting 
 the builders, denounced them to the Emperor. His 
 Majesty handed over the matter to the Archbishop of 
 Prague. This servant of Belial was already wickedly 
 incensed because the Lutherans, relying on the permission 
 to build contained in the Letter of Majesty of 1609, had 
 builded a church in the archbishop's see at Klostergrab. 
 First the iniquitous prelate caused both churches to be 
 closed and the doors sealed with his seal. Then, when 
 our oppressed brethren broke into their own churches and 
 preached the Word, the vile archpriest ordered the 
 churches to be demolished. In three days the sacred 
 edifices were razed to the ground in three days the 
 work of years was destroyed ! The children of God stood 
 by and could not save the holy buildings from the wrath 
 of the ungodly." Scultetus sprang up in his excitement ; 
 raising his arm in a gesture of menace, he shouted : " Ac- 
 cursed be the destroyers ! The vengeance of God be upon 
 them ! " With a snarl her Highness's spaniel rushed at 
 the exalted divine's legs and buried his teeth in his 
 Reverence's black gaiters. 
 
 " Curly, come here ! Curly, you master-scoundrel, 
 come back ! " called her Highness, but the little brown dog 
 held fast. Scultetus stood trembling. 
 
 " Call him off, madame, for Christ's sake ! He will do 
 me a hurt ! " he shrilled. 
 
 " Curly will you come ? Oh ! you little monster, 
 leave hold ! " her Highness said, but her voice was choked 
 with laughter. " He will not hurt you, sir, he is old and 
 his teeth are weak ; he cannot bite through your gaiters. 
 Curly, come here ! " She rose, and, catching up the little 
 dog, gave him a few soft taps on his blunt brown nose.
 
 104 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Elizabeth, like all the Stuarts, had such a tenderness for 
 animals that even when she punished them the whipping 
 seemed to be a series of caresses. But Curly cowered to 
 her breast and whined piteously. There are some human 
 souls which are so closely knit to the faithful dogs' souls 
 that there is no need for blows to inflict punishment ; the 
 patient dependent dog-soul is chastised enough by the 
 knowledge that that wonderful all-powerful being "his 
 master " is displeased. 
 
 " There, sir," cried Elizabeth to the irate preacher, 
 who stood rubbing his gaitered leg " there, sir, I have 
 punished Curly severely." 
 
 " Your pardon, Hochwiirden ! " said Prince Friedrich, 
 " but indeed her Highness has beaten the offender cruelly." 
 He laughed; then, bending close to Elizabeth, he whispered: 
 " Curly is a thief, madame ma mie, for so delicious a 
 beating I would give a day of my life." 
 
 " Dear heart, I could ne'er beat you even thus," she 
 murmured, with a glance of tenderness at Friedrich's dark 
 face. 
 
 Peace restored, Master Scultetus recommenced his 
 story. He told how the Bohemian Protestants had ap- 
 pointed commissioners, styled defenders, to negotiate terms 
 with the Emperor. At the head of these defenders Count 
 Thurn had repaired to the Imperial Court, and had laid a 
 statement of the Protestant grievances before his Majesty ; 
 the Emperor had given as answer the legal quibble that 
 by the Letter of Majesty, though the Protestants were en- 
 titled to build on Crown land, this permission did not 
 extend to the building of " heretical barns " on lands 
 rightfully held by the holy Roman Church. Further, his 
 Majesty had announced that as the Bohemian nobles 
 claimed the right of appointing both pastors and cult on 
 their estates, he would henceforth not be less than his own 
 nobles and would force the true religion on all his subjects. 
 
 " The whole of Bohemia is smouldering in revolt," con- 
 tinued Scultetus. " The pastors expelled from their 
 parishes on Crown lands are wandering over the country 
 seeking refuge on the estates of the Protestant nobles.
 
 THE WEB 105 
 
 The peasants are fleeing before the oppressor, but those 
 who have not deserted their homes are driven to the 
 abominable mass by Imperial soldiers, are driven before the 
 whip, madame ; and there are cases where the soldiers have 
 thrown away their whips and goaded the saintly martyrs 
 at the sword's point. Truly the children of God have 
 entered into the house of bondage ! " 
 
 " And these are good peaceful men who but ask for 
 freedom of worship ? " queried her Highness. 
 
 " Madame, the Bohemians have never been at peace, 
 for they have always been oppressed," Scultetus answered 
 solemnly. 
 
 " But, sir, the Emperor Matthias is a gentle, peaceful 
 man ; doubt you that, an he knew aright the cruelties prac- 
 tised in his name, he would not show mercy ? " she asked. 
 
 " There is no mercy in the adherents of the Church of 
 Satan," he replied harshly. Her Highness sighed; she 
 doubted if an abundance of mercy was stored in the 
 Calvinist's soul. 
 
 " Madame, we shall see if the Emperor can be moved 
 by a true statement of the case. Three weeks ago the 
 defenders summoned a meeting of the Bohemian Protes- 
 tants, and they drew up a document which will be pre- 
 sented to his Majesty. In May another meeting of God's 
 elect is to be convened at Prague to discuss the imperial 
 answer," he said. 
 
 " And if the answer is unfavourable ? " she asked. 
 
 " War, madame ! War for our conscience' sake ! With 
 blood we will avenge the unchristian cruelties of our 
 idolatrous foes," he said sternly. 
 
 " Alas, sir, murder for Christ's sake ? " she said in a 
 low voice. 
 
 " The meek Saviour shall battle with us for the truth, 
 and the idolaters shall perish and burn for ever in the 
 flames of hell .' " he cried wildly. Prince Friedrich's eyes 
 glowed with a fierce light. But Elizabeth Stuart sighed, 
 
 Protestant Europe awaited the Emperor's answer 
 anxiously. It was whispered that if his Majesty persisted
 
 106 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 in his course of oppression of the turbulent Bohemian 
 Lutherans, the Protestant Princes of the Union would be 
 obliged, for their honour's sake, to fly to arms in the cause 
 of their co-religionists. More moderate men objected 
 that the Bohemians were an unruly race, and that their 
 religious tenets were but the pretext of their revolt against 
 the hated House of Hapsburg. What madness, said these 
 wise ones, what madness to plunge Germany into warfare 
 for the sake of a handful of fanatical malcontents ! But 
 there were other voices whispering of material advantages 
 to the Protestant Princes to be gained by a religious war 
 with Austria. The Duke of Bouillon urged his kinsman 
 Friedrich of the Palatinate to wrest a kingdom for him- 
 self out of the Hapsburg holding ; and the Duke of Savoy 
 intrigued and lusted after increase of power. 
 
 Spring came, and in spite of Friedrich's anxious face, 
 of Scultetus' sombre words, and of Duke Christian of 
 Anhalt's diatribes against the House of Hapsburg, the 
 Court of Heidelberg made merry, and Elizabeth, joying 
 in spring's pageant, laughed and jested, forgetting the 
 cloud which hovered over the world, that war-cloud which 
 hung on the word of an aged, ailing man, on the yea or 
 nay of the Emperor Matthias to the Bohemian Lutherans. 
 The long, low hills round Heidelberg were blossom-crowned, 
 the castle gardens were filled with the fragrance of the 
 first roses, the quiet Neckar flowed between the green 
 banks. Elizabeth Stuart, returned from her ride through 
 the woods, stood on the broad terrace overlooking the valley. 
 
 " What a peace there is over the world to-day, Christel," 
 she said to young Anhalt as she drew off her gauntlet 
 and stroked the spaniel Curly's head. 
 
 " It is very beautiful, cousin," Prince Christian an- 
 swered ; " and yet my father would have me leave you 
 and go seek some work, some soldier's honour." 
 
 " But where would he have you go ? There is little 
 doing in the world just now," she said thoughtfully. 
 " Even Mansfeld's troops are lying fallow." 
 
 As she spoke the sound of loud voices broke the still- 
 ness, and Prince Friedrich, followed by Scultetus and Duke
 
 THE WEB 107 
 
 Christian, came through the archway from the courtyard. 
 The Palsgrave's face was flushed, and he held a bundle of 
 papers in his hand. 
 
 " News, madame ! " he cried excitedly. " Splendid news 
 from Bohemia ! Our brethren have defied the oppressor, 
 and now the Truth shall triumph." 
 
 Elizabeth glanced at Scultetus. Though it was Prince 
 Friedrich who spoke, she recognised the words as an echo 
 of his Reverence's utterances. 
 
 " Has the Emperor's answer arrived, sir ? " she said 
 quickly. 
 
 " It has come, and our answer to him has been given 
 given gloriously ! " cried Friedrich. 
 
 " What is the answer ? " she asked, and her breath came 
 fast between her parted lips. 
 
 " Death gave the answer, madame ! " said Scultetus, 
 and his harsh voice sounded as a knell. Then in rapid 
 words he told the story of the Defenestration at Prague. 
 He told how the news had come to Prague that the 
 Emperor's answer was uncompromisingly hostile to the 
 Lutherans ; that Count Thurn, receiving this information, 
 had convened the nobles secretly, and that in this assembly 
 it had been agreed that the document had been drawn up 
 at Prague by the hated Lord High Justice of Bohemia, 
 Slavata, and his colleague, Martinitz Burggraf of Karl- 
 stein, and that the Emperor had but signed this mandate. 
 The Protestant conspirators had unanimously condemned 
 these imperial agents to death as traitors to Bohemian 
 liberty. Early in the morning of May 23rd the Imperial 
 agents had assembled in the Council Hall of the Hradcany 
 at Prague, and had awaited the Protestant noblemen. 
 There had been four Emperor's men, to wit : Diepold von 
 Lobkowitz, Grand Prior of the Order of Malta ; Adam 
 von Steinberg, the premier noble of Bohemia ; the hated 
 Slavata, and Martinitz. To their surprise, when the 
 numerous Lutheran nobles had entered the hall, they had 
 seen that they had come fully armed, contrary to the im- 
 perial prescription which forbade the bearing of arms in 
 the council chamber. Count Thurn had opened the pro-
 
 108 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 ceedings by demanding whether the mandate, the formal 
 reading whereof he and his associates had repaired to 
 hear, had been written in Vienna. Without giving the 
 Imperial Councillors time to reply, he had denounced them 
 as traitors to Bohemia. Then in thunderous tones he had 
 demanded if they could, on their oath, affirm that the 
 mandate had been written in Vienna. 
 
 With dignity the Imperial Councillors had replied that 
 they were bound by solemn oath never to divulge the 
 business of the council. Their sole duty was to proclaim 
 and enforce the imperial edicts. 
 
 With a yell of fury the Lutherans had rushed forward 
 and had threatened the councillors with instant death if 
 they refused to answer. After a few moments' whispered 
 consultation Lobkowitz had replied, in the name of his 
 fellow- councillors, that, yielding to overwhelming numbers, 
 they would give answer to the preposterous question, and 
 their answer was that the document had been entirely 
 drawn up, written, and signed in Vienna. If the Lutherans 
 desired further information on the subject, they must 
 journey to Vienna and interrogate his Majesty himself. 
 
 For an instant the hostile crowd of nobles had hung 
 back. They had thought to have proved the councillors 
 to have been the authors! of the mandate, and as such to 
 have condemned them to instant death as enemies to 
 Bohemia. Now Paul von Rican, a zealous Lutheran, had 
 sprung forward and had reminded the assembly how, in 
 1609, Slavata and Martinitz alone of all the Bohemian 
 nobles had refused to sign the Bond of Peace which had 
 been agreed to and signed by the entire Bohemian nobility, 
 both Lutheran and Catholic. This, he asserted, was suffi- 
 cient proof of their treason to Bohemia. Again the deafen- 
 ing clamour had arisen from the Lutherans, and loud 
 voices demanded the execution of these enemies of the 
 nation. 
 
 " Alas ! that ' der Lange ' (the Imperial Chancellor 
 Zdeneck von Lobkowitz) is not here to share their fate ! " 
 many had shouted. But fortunately for himself the Chan- 
 cellor was in Vienna. Now Diepold von Lobkowitz and
 
 THE WEB 109 
 
 Adam von Steinberg had been forcibly ejected from the 
 council chamber, and the nobles had thrown themselves 
 upon the defenceless Slavata and Martinitz. Half a 
 hundred daggers had been at their throats when some 
 one had cried out that it were impious to stain Bohemia's 
 council chamber with blood. A fearful struggle had 
 ensued, but steadily the victims had been dragged to the 
 windows overlooking the courtyard. The Imperial Secre- 
 tary Fabrizius had implored Count Schlick to show mercy 
 to the councillors, but the wretched underling clerk, for 
 his pains, had been seized and dragged towards the win- 
 dows. Slavata had clung desperately to the ledge, but 
 his assailants had ruthlessly loosed his clinging hands 
 and had flung him down down a hundred feet into the 
 courtyard below. From another window Martinitz had 
 been hurled to his doom, and Fabrizius, the harmless, 
 subordinate clerk, had been dashed headlong after his 
 masters. For an instant the accomplishment of their 
 design had sobered the fury of God's gentle Lutheran 
 lambs. But their righteous wrath had broken forth again 
 when they had seen the Romish criminals crawl away, if 
 not unharmed, at least alive. 
 
 " Dauntless in their just vengeance," cried Scultetus, 
 " Count Thurn and a number of nobles hurried away to 
 complete the execution, while those who remained at the 
 windows fired their pistols repeatedly at the condemned 
 traitors. But Martinitz and the secretary escaped, and 
 some of the Chancellor's servants carried Slavata to their 
 master's neighbouring house. Soon Count Thurn and his 
 adherents were thundering at the closed doors. A window 
 was flung open, and Dame Polixena von Lobkowitz, an 
 abandoned Romish woman, wife to the iniquitous Chan- 
 cellor, appeared. " You shall kill me an you will, but I 
 will never give up to you a dying man, a man who is a 
 friend and kinsman to you as to me," she said. Thurn in 
 his meek Christian mercy gave her answer that justice had 
 been done if the traitor Slavata were indeed a dying man. 
 She cried out that God's angels had borne up Slavata and 
 saved him that he might die hi peace after receiving the
 
 110 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 sacraments of his Church. Angels ! " Scultetus laughed 
 hoarsely ; " Satan himself aids the Papists. Know you, 
 madame, what saved the ungodly in their fall ? A dung- 
 heap ! There was a dung-heap beneath the windows of 
 the Hradcany, and into this foul bed the oppressors fell 
 soft ! " 
 
 " But they live, master ? You said that death had an- 
 swered ? " her Highness queried with blanched lips. 
 
 " Death has spoken, though by Satan's will the dying 
 Slavata 1 lived to taste the horrible mockery of the so-called 
 sacrament. Death has spoken, nay, more ! Death riding 
 the mighty steed of War rides through Bohemia. Death 
 crushes the heathen and deals punishment to the idolaters, 
 to the votaries of Antichrist," he thundered. 
 
 " Vengeance on the House of Hapsburg ! " cried Duke 
 Christian of Anhalt, and, drawing his sword, he kissed the 
 blade so fiercely that his mouth left a trace of blood upon 
 the steel. 
 
 " Honour and freedom for the true Faith ! " cried Frie- 
 rich, and, snatching the sword from Anhalt, he kissed it 
 reverently. He started, and with a stifled exclamation let 
 the sword fall to the ground and drew his hand across his 
 face ; his lips had touched the wet stain on the blade, and 
 the taste of blood was bitter in his mouth. 
 
 " Swear, you wanton boy ! " roared Anhalt to Prince 
 Christel. " Swear to do battle in this holy war against the 
 accursed Hapsburgs." He bent and raised the sword from 
 the ground. " Swear ! " he said sternly, and held the blade 
 to his son's lips. 
 
 " Where my cousin of the Palatinate leads, there will I 
 follow till death," Christel said, and his blue eyes rested 
 sadly on Elizabeth Stuart as he kissed the sword. 
 
 1 As a fact William Slavata lived to the age of ninety, and wrote in the 
 Bohemian language his memoirs, wherein he gave his version of the 
 Defenestration, and a bitterly hostile account of King Friedrich's reign. 
 He also compiled a history of Bohemia in twelve volumes.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 
 
 " Now o'er the palsied earth stalks Giant Fear, 
 With War and Woe and Terror in his train." 
 
 SHELLEY. 
 
 DEATH, riding the mighty steed of War, thundered 
 through Bohemia, and from far and wide came 
 Death's grim servitors, those hordes of mercenary 
 soldiers whose trade was bloodshed. At Heidelberg mes- 
 sengers from the insurgents arrived daily, and the talk of 
 castle and of town was endlessly of Bohemian affairs. The 
 cloud on Prince Friedrich's brow deepened, and her High- 
 ness vowed that she had lost a husband and found a gloomy 
 statesman in his stead. She jested, but what irked her 
 was the haunting feeling that there were projects afoot 
 which Friedrich, Master Scultetus, and old Anhalt kept 
 from her knowledge. 
 
 One night Elizabeth was restless, and the more she 
 wooed the god of sleep, the more the fiend of wakefulness 
 tormented her. All the distorted imaginings which lurk 
 in the brain to torture the wakeful came to her. Was 
 something terrible going to befall her ? She remembered 
 the old saying that the Stuarts were gifted with second 
 sight. Was some revelation of impending doom coming 
 to her ? She recalled the Lady of Harrington's calm smile 
 when she had asked her if this mysterious divination lived 
 in the Stuart race. 
 
 " They might have been wiser men had they possessed 
 it, sweet child ; but God in His mercy withholds all know- 
 ledge of our destiny. Second sight, forsooth ! It is an 
 old wife's tale, and contrary to both religion and good 
 sense," she had answered. If only the Lady of Harring- 
 ton had been still in Heidelberg, Elizabeth would have 
 
 in
 
 112 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 gone to her and poured out her doleful ponderings, and 
 sure, one half-hour of her placid reasoning would have 
 banished all forebodings. But Lady Harrington had re- 
 turned to England. Then came the thought of her beloved 
 friend, and the ever-present sadness of her death : " Anne, 
 sweet Anne Dudley ! " her Highness murmured, " it was 
 a cruel God who took you from me. I need you, dear 
 one ! " Impatiently Elizabeth threw back the embroidered 
 coverlet. Mental anguish turned to physical discomfort, 
 and she felt breathless and oppressed. She pushed aside 
 the heavy damask curtain of her bed and listened 
 anxiously. Silence wrapped the world, and yet some 
 undefined sense of stirring haunted her. She rose, and 
 feeling her way through the darkness to the window, she 
 opened her casement and leaned out. The night breeze 
 wafted the scent of roses to her. 
 
 " How still it is," she whispered. Below her the ter- 
 raced garden seemed to dream deliciously in the white 
 moonlight, long shadows fell athwart the pathways from 
 the statues, the fountains were not playing, silence reigned. 
 For some time Elizabeth Stuart leaned out of her case- 
 ment, the fragrant night air calmed her restlessness, and 
 like a gentle hand sleep weighed down her tired eyelids. 
 
 " I shall rest now," she told herself ; but as she laid her 
 hand upon the window, meaning to close it, her attention 
 was attracted by two figures which were moving stealthily 
 through the gardens. Their shadows fell black and gro- 
 tesque on the whiteness of the moonlit pathway. The case- 
 ment creaked beneath her Highness's touch, and she saw 
 how the men started and drew back into the shadow of the 
 terrace wall. After a moment they reappeared, and con- 
 tinued their silent, cautious progress. It struck her that 
 one of the newcomers was known to her. Where had she 
 seen that short, thick-set figure, the one shoulder hunched 
 to the large head ? Impossible ! who could identify a man 
 in a black cloak and with a slouch hat crushed down on 
 his head ? They were close beneath her now. She leaned 
 eagerly from out the casement. The intruders paused, as 
 though they waited for some signal. After a brief moment
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 113 
 
 they passed into the shadow cast by the " English Palace," 
 where she was. She waited, expecting them to emerge 
 again, but it seemed that the shadow had swallowed them. 
 Then she heard the click of a key turning in a lock, and 
 immediately afterwards the muffled bang of a carefully 
 closed door. Her Highness started. She recognised the 
 sound as that of the small heavy garden door leading to 
 that portion of the English Palace where was situated 
 Prince Friedrich's dwelling. What sought those black- 
 cloaked strangers at dead of night in the palace ? What 
 meant that secrecy ? Who had admitted them ? Who 
 had closed the door so carefully and stealthily ? Fear 
 gripped her heart and sent the blood surging in painful 
 throbs to her temples. Conspiracy ! Murder ! 
 
 She sprang forward, and catching up a velvet cloak 
 which lay on a chair near she flung it round her and 
 swiftly fled from her chamber into the marbled corridor. 
 She paused to listen. Deep silence ; and like a stifling 
 pall the blackness of night ! Only on the far side of the 
 courtyard the moon peered over the high gables of the 
 castle and shed her wan light upon the windows of the 
 Otto Heinrich's Bau. 
 
 Elizabeth opened the narrow door onto the steep wind- 
 ing stairway which led from her apartments to Friedrich's 
 dwelling rooms. Darkness enshrouded her, but she felt her 
 way by groping against the rough stonework of the wall. 
 When she reached the door of his Highness's antehall she 
 listened. There was no sound. Her knees bent beneath 
 her like a sick woman's. Those cloaked night-birds 
 those stealthy figures were in the palace, here, near her, 
 and they gave no sign. She wrenched open the door. Still 
 no light and no sound. 
 
 " Friedrich ! " she called, and she heard her own voice, 
 weak, tremulous, hardly above a whisper though she had 
 tried to call loudly. She felt her way across the room ; 
 once she stumbled heavily against a chair. 
 
 " Friedrich ! " she called again. Her eyes, grown used 
 to the blackness, noticed now a faint line of light on the 
 threshold of his Highness's writing closet ; guided by it she 
 
 H
 
 114 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 found her way to the door. The handle turned loosely in 
 her grasp, but the door remained fast. Fear made her 
 hands feel weak and limp, yet she smote on the panels 
 fiercely. 
 
 " Friedrich ! Are you there ? Open ! Let me in ! " 
 she cried. For an instant there was no response ; then 
 she heard the sound of a footfall, and his Highness's voice 
 answered camly: 
 
 " What would you, dear heart ? I am at work with 
 Master Scultetus." 
 
 " Let me in ! " she called. " I must speak with you ! " 
 She heard the hiss of a whispered consultation, then slowly 
 the inner bolts were withdrawn and the door was opened. 
 
 " Strangers have just been admitted secretly," she began 
 hurriedly, then she paused as her eyes fell on two figures 
 standing in the shadow beyond the circle of light thrown 
 by the waxen tapers on the table. One figure moved 
 forward. 
 
 " Your Highness, I crave forgiveness for this nocturnal 
 visitation," the man said. 
 
 " My Lord of Mansfeld ! " she cried in surprise. " Sir, 
 why do you come like a thief in the night ? " She saw 
 how Mansfeld's eyes sought Prince Friedrich's as if in 
 question, and how they both half turned to Scultetus as 
 though seeking advice. 
 
 " What do you here so secretly ? What is afoot ? " 
 she cried angrily. " I will not be banished from all know- 
 lege as if I were a prating child. What is your errand, 
 gentlemen ? " she added in a haughty tone. Prince Fried- 
 rich laid his hand gently on her arm. 
 
 " Count Mansfeld arrived late unexpectedly " he 
 
 began in a timid, uncertain voice. She cast him a scorn- 
 ful glance. 
 
 " I saw these gentlemen arrive, I saw the secrecy where- 
 with they were admitted ! Some one expected them, and 
 helped them in their mysterious entry ! It was so 
 stealthily done that I feared some dark conspiracy. Tut, 
 sirs ! I will not brook such slinking in my house ! Tell me 
 your errand," she commanded. Scultetus came forward.
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 115 
 
 " Indeed, madame, these are affairs of State " 
 
 " And no matters for women's meddling," interruped old 
 Anhalt roughly. 
 
 " Women, sir ? Women ! Do you count me as the good- 
 wife of a burgher ? I am a Princess of Great Britain, and 
 mistress of this my Castle of Heidelberg, I would have you 
 know ! " she said proudly, and there was that in her tone 
 which had rung in the voice of another Elizabeth, she 
 whom men had named " King Elizabeth of England." 
 
 The men stood silent, abashed by her vehemence. The 
 other stranger, who had hitherto remained half hidden in 
 the shadow, came forward. He bowed obsequiously to 
 her Highness, and spoke rapidly in Latin to Master Scul- 
 tetus. Elizabeth caught the words : " Princeps Savoyae 
 mandat confidentialiter " 
 
 " Nor is it our custom, signor," she said sharply, " for 
 strangers to gabble before me in a tongue they believe I 
 do not understand." An angry thought flashed through 
 her mind. Why had her father forbidden her tutors to 
 teach her Latin ? She remembered James the Pedant's 
 homilies against " all overlearned lassies." Of a truth, the 
 British Solomon's wisdom was mighty unwise in daily use. 
 
 " I command you to tell me your errand," she repeated. 
 " My lord count, I beg you to tell me." Her quick in- 
 stinct had guessed right ; Mansfeld was the only one of 
 that group who would speak out. The others were silenced 
 by many considerations, while he, the condottiere, having 
 less to lose, cared less for concealment. 
 
 " It is only the purchase of a brigand's sword, madame," 
 he said lightly. 
 
 In a flash it came to Elizabeth the meaning of this 
 midnight consultation, the sinister import of Mansfeld's 
 secret presence, the reference to the Duke of Savoy. She 
 had thought and spoken a hundred times of war, of the 
 probability of a vast European conflict, but now the horror 
 of the actuality of war touched her with its dread import 
 of battle, murder, famine, and despair. For the first time 
 she realised dimly what it would mean to her. 
 
 " We need no brigand's swords in peaceful Heidelberg,"
 
 116 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 she said quickly. For answer Mansfeld pointed at the 
 chart which lay spread out on the table. " Konigreich 
 Boheim " was written thereon. Mechanically her High- 
 ness passed her fingers across the parchment. With an 
 exclamation she drew back ; her hand had left a trace of 
 blood upon the chart, a faint line of red from " Boheim " 
 into the portion marked " Die Pfalz." 
 
 Prince Friedrich caught her hand and raised it to- 
 wards the light. " You are wounded, beloved ? " he cried 
 axiously. She glanced at her hand. 
 
 " Probably I rasped my fingers against the stairway 
 wall in the dark," she said indifferently. " That is an 
 ugly omen," she added, pointing to the stain on the chart. 
 
 " Your Highness has already spilled her blood for the 
 sake of the Faith," said Mansfeld, laughing. 
 
 "Sir, this is no time for impious jesting," interposed 
 Scultetus. 
 
 " No, Master Scultetus," cried her Highness, " and no 
 time for secrecy from me. I know right well wherefore 
 my Lord of Mansfeld is summoned hither, and I claim 
 full confidence in these affairs, which concern me no 
 less than his Highness. Believe me," she turned with a 
 shrewd smile to Mansfeld, " to tell a woman half a story 
 is dangerous always ; tell her everything, trust her, and 
 she is honourably silent." 
 
 Old Anhalt flung out his hands in an angry gesture. 
 To him the whole scene was puerile, trifling, incompre- 
 hensible. His life was centred in his hatred of the House 
 of Hapsburg, and he feared and distrusted women. A 
 man with his soul thus passionate with hatred is im- 
 possible for a woman to tamper with. But the other 
 conspirators were different ; they felt Elizabeth Stuart's 
 fascination, they were compelled by it, and charm be- 
 gets confidence, often to the ultimate discomfiture of the 
 confider. 
 
 The negotiations were continued in her Highness's 
 presence. It appeared that the Duke of Savoy proposed 
 to sell Mansfeld and some two thousand well-armed, 
 thoroughly trained troops. Prince Friedrich undertook
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 117 
 
 to bear the chief cost of the campaign, and to pay Savoy 
 his price for ceding Mansfeld and his small army. None 
 doubted the rebels' ultimate victory, as it was reckoned that 
 if the enterprise were once well commenced, not only all 
 the Princes of the Protestant Union, but England, Holland, 
 and the Venetian Republic would join forces for the over- 
 throw of the Hapsburgs and the triumph of the Reformed 
 Faith. Then Friedrich would become King of Bohemia, 
 and Savoy would annex Moravia and Silesia. The ques- 
 tion of the Imperial purple was left undetermined, but it 
 was tacitly understood that either Savoy or Prince Fried- 
 rich would become Emperor after the death of Matthias. 
 In either case entire freedom was promised to the Re- 
 formed Churches, both Calvinistic and Lutheran. It 
 appeared that most of the Princes of the Protestant Union 
 were favourable to this project, but it was also evident 
 that only Prince Friedrich had gone further than mere 
 talk ; only Friedrich had given arms and money to the 
 Bohemian insurgents ; only he and Savoy knew of Mans- 
 feld's participation in the Bohemian revolt. It was a far 
 different thing for Savoy, an independent Italian prince, 
 to enter into this intrigue ; for him there was everything 
 to be gained and nothing to lose ; whereas Friedrich, 
 Prince of the Empire, risked all, for in case of defeat he 
 stood in danger of the ban of the empire, which meant 
 the forfeiture of his Electorate and of his possessions. 
 This Friedrich set forth in halting words that night, but 
 Scultetus, ever ready to play on the ardent heart of his 
 pupil, spoke of the advantages to the Reformed Church, 
 of how the Princes of the Protestant Union, for very 
 shame, could never abandon their brethren in Faith ; and 
 Friedrich's enthusiasm, as usual, took fire, fed by this 
 fuel, while the real and ever smouldering spark was his 
 unspoken ambition to crown Elizabeth queen. So the 
 pact was signed and sealed, and Mansfeld despatched to 
 Bohemia. 
 
 That summer good news came to Heidelberg, Count 
 Thurn, commander-in-chief of the Bohemian forces, laid 
 siege to Budweis, and took the town of Krumau. The
 
 118 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 nobles of Austria, for the most part Protestant, refused 
 passage to the Hapsburg army, and it was August before 
 Bucquoi led the Imperial troops through Moravia into 
 Bohemia. Moravia was half-hearted, for although a Pro- 
 testant land it was entirely swayed by Zerotin, a Protestant 
 too, but a faithful adherent of the Hapsburgs. The cam- 
 paign went all too slowly for the ardent schemers at 
 Heidelberg, and the summer passed without any decisive 
 action. Bucquoi and the Imperial army sought battle, 
 but Count Thurn and his Bohemians hung back, feeling 
 themselves too weak in numbers. Bohemia, supporting 
 two armies, was given over to rapine and famine. Septem- 
 ber came and there was still no change, then in October 
 the Silesians decided to espouse openly the Bohemian 
 cause ; and then, at last, in November Bucquoi was de- 
 feated by Thurn near Budweis ; and on the heels of the 
 welcome messenger who brought this news to waiting 
 Heidelberg came another rider with despatches telling 
 how Mansfeld had captured the town of Pilsen. It was 
 glorious news ; for Bucquoi, now cut off from Vienna, was 
 a victim waiting to be crushed by those two giant hands, 
 Thurn and Mansfeld. Glorious news again ! Thurn had 
 invaded Austria. He had left troops to watch over the 
 defeated Bucquoi, and, counting on the support of the 
 disaffected Austrian nobility, he was marching to Vienna. 
 The doom of Hapsburg seemed assured, and old Anhalt, 
 drunk with vengeance on the hated House, already spoke 
 of the glory of the coming Protestant empire ; and Scul- 
 tetus fed Friedrich's vision with word pictures of Elizabeth 
 Stuart as the first Protestant empress. 
 
 But Death had not sated his lust with the few Bohemian 
 battles. It was not enough, and Death dismounted his 
 grim steed of Warfare, and dipping his dread sickle into 
 the poison of disease, mowed down the flower of the 
 Bohemian army. Austria was better served by typhus 
 than by Bucquoi. Consternation reigned in Heidelberg 
 when these tidings came. Messengers arrived almost daily 
 with accounts of the fearful condition of the Bohemian 
 army famine-stricken, unpaid, decimated by disease, It
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 119 
 
 was said that each day hundreds died of typhus. Gloom 
 settled over Heidelberg, town and castle. Heavy, ener- 
 vating weather added to the general depression ; it was as 
 though the whole country waited for something for what 
 no man knew. It was " thunder weather," as the peasants 
 said, but no storm came to relieve the tension. For weeks 
 the skies lowered sunless, unsmiling ; and yet each evening, 
 at what should have been set of sun, a dull glow as of a 
 smouldering furnace lit the heavens to a sombre glory. 
 They said that there were evil omens abroad. Had not 
 the smithy's cow borne a calf with three heads ? Had 
 not an eagle flown against the castle flagstaff and fallen 
 dead ? This foreboded ill, for who did not know that the 
 three-headed calf symbolised famine, disease, and ruin ? 
 None had seen the monstrous beast, but it had been born, 
 they said, for all that. And the eagle ? Ah ! that meant 
 death to the owner of Heidelberg Castle. Then a sentry 
 told how he had heard a moaning voice in the castle moat 
 at dead of night. All knew, too, that Van Somer's picture 
 of her Highness as a little maiden had fallen from the 
 wall, though both the nails and the cord which had held 
 the frame were sound and strong. This presaged that 
 her Highness's happy youth was ended, and that disaster 
 would soon come to her. 
 
 Prince Friedrich and her Highness knew of these 
 dismal sayings, and though they vowed them to be but 
 impious, foolish talk, a little fear was mingled in their 
 anxiety. 
 
 One autumn evening her Highness sat before her 
 'broidery-frame in her living-room in the English Palace. 
 She was weary and oppressed, for she was approaching 
 near to the time of her third confinement. Amalia Solms 
 was patiently disentangling a silken skein which Curly, the 
 spaniel, had played with. Prince Christel sat near, and on 
 his knee lay Sir Walter Raleigh's " History of the World," 
 but, though he turned the pages, he was not reading. 
 There was too much a-happening in the world just then for 
 thought to be given to the histories of bygone struggles, 
 As usual the talk was of Bohemia and the revolt,
 
 120 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " And so Thurn is to return to Bohemia ! Good lack ! 
 he hath gained little by wandering with his troops over 
 half Austria. Better had he followed Bucquoi and finished 
 his conquest," said her Highness musingly. 
 
 " Thurn had counted on the Austrian Protestants rising 
 in a body and marching with him against the Imperialists. 
 Half-hearted loons ! But we can gauge their promises 
 now," replied Christel. 
 
 " Surely your Grace must yearn to be in the thick of the 
 fight ? " queried the Solms in her nasal voice. 
 
 " Gracious Amalia, I obey orders by staying here," he 
 answered quietly, though his cheek flushed. 
 
 " Oh, Amalia," cried Elizabeth Stuart impatiently, " it 
 is not what you say which often angers me ; it is your 
 attitude of mind, your constant judgment of what does 
 not concern you which makes you so sorry a friend." 
 
 " I regret, your Highness ," began the Solms in an 
 
 offended tone. 
 
 Elizabeth interrupted her hastily. " Oh, for the dear 
 God's sake cease regretting ! You tread on people's toes 
 and think you have eased their bruise by your regrets, 
 but the toes ache for all your ' Ach ! pardons ! ' " Elizabeth 
 said half angrily, half laughingly. 
 
 " Really, your Highness, I do not comprehend ," 
 
 began the Solms again. 
 
 " Ah, my dear, and that which we do not comprehend 
 in such things no angel of God can teach us, methinks," 
 broke in her Highness ; " now, dear Amalia, go to my other 
 ladies. I will call you anon an I need you." The offended 
 damsel retired. 
 
 " The Countess Amalia means I should be with Mans- 
 feld," said Christel, " and, sweet cousin, God knows I wish 
 I were." 
 
 " If you went now it would show the whole world how 
 deeply implicated we are in the Bohemian revolt," she 
 answered. " Nay, we will all fight, if Dohna returns out 
 of England with good news of my father's intentions." 
 
 They fell to talking of the English mission. Dohna had 
 been despatched to Whitehall to ascertain whether King
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 121 
 
 James intended to abide by his compact with the Princes 
 of the Union, and to contribute troops and monies in the 
 event of open hostilities between the Catholic and Pro- 
 testant parties. As usual James procrastinated. In spite 
 of his promises he was unwilling to commit himself, for 
 he feared to spoil the chances of the Spanish alliance for 
 the Prince of Wales, if he openly espoused the Protestant 
 cause. In the face of the violent opposition of the Puritans, 
 and indeed of all England, to the Spanish match, James 
 clung to the idea. Partly the Infanta's dowry allured 
 him ; partly he regarded the House of Hapsburg as the 
 most distinguished and magnificent in Europe, and it 
 flattered his vanity to mate his son with a Hapsburg 
 princess. Also he was the plaything of that astute 
 diplomatist, the Spanish ambassador, Gondomar, who 
 knew that Protestant Europe stood waiting for England's 
 weight to be thrown into the political scales, and that 
 while James hesitated, though the balance might oscillate, 
 the actual overturning from peace to war would be averted. 
 Meanwhile Spain, Austria, and Bavaria grew daily stronger 
 and more prepared for war. It may be imagined Dohna 
 had no easy task, and he wrote in despair that he could 
 get no answer from James. His hands were tied, for as 
 yet he durst make but scant mention of Prince Friedrich's 
 dreams of the Bohemian crown, and thus when he ap- 
 proached James or Buckingham with his question of what 
 England would do, he was easily silenced by the statement 
 that there was, and would be, no war. Why should there 
 be ? What should bring war about ? 
 
 For the nonce, even among the Heidelberg statesmen, 
 the Bohemian project was not openly mentioned, though 
 the subject was the ordinary gossip of all the Courts and 
 towns of Europe. Even her Highness and Christel did 
 not speak of it ; in fact, it seemed to be but a far-off eventu- 
 ality to them. They discussed Dohna's mission and the 
 likelihood of the Spanish marriage ; and while they spoke 
 Christel's deft fingers were busy with a pencil, drawing 
 the pattern of Elizabeth's wide, puffed sleeve on the margin 
 of a page of " The History of the World." Her Highness
 
 122 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 broke off in the political discussion with an exclama- 
 tion: 
 
 " Christel, you wicked one ! " she cried, " you spoil the 
 book my father sent me out of England. See now ! my 
 sleeve portrayed opposite the solemn recital of Hannibal's 
 wars ! " l 
 
 She drew the book towards her as he held it out laugh- 
 ing. " Really, Christel ! " she said merrily, " think of my 
 father's ire an he knew ! " 
 
 " Ah ! cousin, even the hem of your sleeve is dearer to 
 me than all the wisdom in the ' History of the World,' " 
 he said. 
 
 " Christel, you are a foolish dear one," she answered, 
 smiling. 
 
 At this moment a page appeared in the doorway. " His 
 Highness bids me inform you, inadame, that a deputation 
 from Bohemia has arrived, and that his Highness will be 
 occupied with State affairs till late this night, and begs 
 you to hold him excused from attending upon you this 
 evening." The boy delivered his message, bowed, and 
 retired. 
 
 " State affairs," said her Highness. " Ah, well ! God 
 grant they may bring us good some day." 
 
 Silence fell between Elizabeth and Christel. In the 
 courtyard the clock struck the hour heavily. 
 
 " It grows late," her Highness said. " Friedrich and his 
 Bohemians will consult till midnight. Good night, dear 
 Christel." She pushed away her embroidery frame and 
 rose. " Draw back the curtain, cousin, and see if it rains." 
 
 As she spoke hurried footsteps rang out on the marble 
 floor of the corridor. The door was flung open and Prince 
 Friedrich burst into the room. 
 
 " It has come at last ! A definite offer ! " he cried breath- 
 
 1 In the British Museum there is a copy of Sir Walter Raleigh's " History 
 of the World " which belonged to Elizabeth Stuart. On the margin of page 
 417, opposite to the recital of Hannibal's wars, is a faint drawing of a 
 woman's arm and hand. The sleeve matches, in all particulars, that in 
 Mierevelt's picture of the Queen of Bohemia. This book was left at Prague 
 by the Queen, and was brought to England in 1682 by a Jesuit priest, as 
 is set forth on the flyleaf in a Latin inscription.
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 123 
 
 lessly. His cheeks were flushed and his brown eyes glowed 
 with excitement. 
 
 " What has come ? Who offers ? " began her Highness 
 in surprise. 
 
 " The offer of the Bohemian throne ! " he answered im- 
 patiently. " They have elected me in secret still, but 
 they have decided to elect me ! Queen of my heart, how 
 sweet to crown thee queen in the sight of all men ! No 
 longer ' Goody Palsgrave,' as your mother said ! " He was 
 very young and winning in his boyish enthusiasm. The 
 sombre influence of Calvinism, the shadow which in- 
 trigue and anxiety had cast over him for long months 
 seemed to have fallen from his soul, and he was only the 
 proud lover, eager, yearning to proclaim his lady a queen. 
 Elizabeth stood silent for an instant. 
 
 " Care you not for a throne, dearling ? " Prince Friedrich 
 said. The flush faded from his weak, sensitive face, and 
 the radiance of his eyes waned. As usual with him it 
 needed but a look or a word to dash his exultation to 
 hesitancy and despondence. 
 
 " It is not settled yet I fear there is desperate 
 risk perchance I ought to refuse," he said slowly. 
 Elizabeth's eyes flashed and she drew herself to her full 
 height. 
 
 " He who has wed a king's daughter must have courage 
 to climb the steps of a throne however slippery they may 
 be ! " she said haughtily. Once more Friedrich's enthusi- 
 asm flamed. 
 
 " You are right, and it shall ne'er be said that I feared 
 kingship ! " he cried. " I vow to accept the crown of 
 Bohemia ! " 
 
 Christel had stood silent and embarrassed while these 
 words passed between his cousins ; he now moved to the 
 window, remembering Elizabeth's request that he should 
 see if it rained. He drew back the heavy curtain. Flood- 
 like a strange white glare lit the room, making the candle- 
 flames seem like tiny pinnacles of yellow light. Both Eliza- 
 beth and Friedrich turned in surprise towards the window. 
 There was something ghastly in the sudden white light. It
 
 124 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 blanched Elizabeth's cheeks to deathliness, and Prince 
 Friedrich's face seemed like a yellow, waxen mask. 
 
 " What is it, Christel ? " cried her Highness. " What is 
 this flare ? " Christel opened the casement and leaned out. 
 A discordance of sound came through the open window : 
 cries and hoarse shouting, the frantic ringing of bells, and 
 over all the long-drawn moan of a rising tempest. A gust 
 of wind swept through the casement and abased the candle 
 wicks to shuddering back-bent sheets of flame, and then 
 extinguishing them, left the room lit only by the lurid glare 
 from without. Christel clung to the casement frame, en- 
 deavouring to pull the window shut, but the wind tore it 
 from his grasp and dashed it back against the palace wall. 
 The second door of her Highness's room was thrown open, 
 and her affrighted ladies hurried in. 
 
 " Madame ! oh, madame ! it is the end of the world ! " 
 wailed Amalia Solms. 
 
 " Be silent ! " commanded her Highness sharply. Chris- 
 tel now succeeded in closing the casement, and the gale, 
 with its accompaniment of panic sounds thus shut out, 
 smote but faintly on the hearing. 
 
 " Is there a conflagration in the town ? " asked Prince 
 Friedrich. But none could answer him. Now Count 
 Schomberg stood on the threshold. His face was grave 
 and white. 
 
 " Your Highness," he said earnestly, " there is tumult 
 in the town. A monstrous luminary hath appeared in 
 the sky ; it is like a giant finger of flame pointing at the 
 castle. The people are crying out that it is God's scourge 
 stick sent to warn us of Almighty wrath and vengeance. 
 The people believe it is hi punishment of your friendli- 
 ness with the Bohemian rebels. Thousands of men have 
 forced their way across the outer bridge ; I do not know 
 whether they found the gate open, or whether the sentries 
 in their panic let them in." 
 
 Prince Friedrich, as usual, stood irresolute. His whole 
 being was like a tarred beacon, which needs the spark from 
 another's fire to kindle the dormant flame of courage and 
 activity.
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 125 
 
 " What can be done ? Where is Scultetus ? " he said 
 weakly. Some one hurried away to fetch the preacher. 
 
 And now, even through the closed windows, and louder 
 than the yell of the wind, came the steady roar of many 
 voices and the tramp of thousands of feet. 
 
 Old Anhalt pushed his way through the group of 
 wailing women in the doorway. 
 
 " The townsfolk are in revolt," he cried ; " they are 
 clamouring at the inner gates. I have ordered the guard 
 to fire on them if they do not disperse." 
 
 " In revolt ? My Heidelbergers ! It is incredible ! " 
 said Friedrich. 
 
 " Revolt ! " cried Elizabeth ; " they are mad with fear ! 
 Open the gates let them in let us show them that 
 whatever befalls we are with them ! You, my lord," she 
 added, turning to Friedrich, "you go and speak with 
 them." 
 
 At this moment Scultetus appeared on the scene. 
 Prince Friedrich caught him by the arm. 
 
 " Will you speak to the citizens ? I know not what 
 to say," he said. 
 
 "Nor I, your Highness they are riotous loons," the 
 Calvinist answered. Elizabeth Stuart flung up her hands. 
 
 " The Lord have mercy upon you ! " she cried angrily. 
 " Must you all hesitate until a real revolt is upon us ? 
 Tell the people that it is our will to share their fate 
 whatever it may be ! Tell them that this strange star 
 is another moon sent to guide our feet unto peace 
 through warfare into peace ! Tell them anything you 
 like, but tell them something ! They will believe you 
 only do not stand there doing nothing ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Master Scultetus, you hear ? Her High- 
 ness is right you must calm them they are good 
 people ! " said Prince Friedrich hurriedly. " Open the 
 gates ! His reverence will speak with the citizens ! " 
 
 " Summon them to the chapel ! God's minister must 
 speak to his flock from the pulpit," said Scultetus. 
 
 The gates were opened, and the mob poured across the
 
 126 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 inner drawbridge, where Prince Christel, Count Schoin- 
 berg, and the other gentlemen shouted to them that 
 Master Scultetus awaited them in the chapel, and that 
 he would tell them what they craved to know. 
 
 It was a strange scene enough. The lurid glare in the 
 sky lit the world to a horrible false daylight. The mass 
 of terror-stricken burghers swayed and surged in the large 
 courtyard in silence now. Those who were in the front 
 of the crowd jostled each other frantically, as though their 
 only chance of salvation lay hidden in the small chapel. 
 From below in the town came the ringing of bells and 
 the clamour of a fear-ridden multitude ; while from the 
 wild animals' cages in the disused moat came the roar of 
 the lions, roused from their sleep to fury and alarm by 
 the unnatural light. And over all was the long-drawn 
 wail of the wind that wind which rushed beneath a 
 clear and cloudless sky. 
 
 In the chapel the Calvinist preacher poured forth a 
 torrent of words. He affirmed the new luminary to be 
 in very truth the rod of Almighty wrath threatening the 
 oppressors of Christ's elect. It was a portent of coming 
 vengeance on the tyrant who trampled on the children 
 of God in Bohemia. An ominous murmur greeted the 
 mention of Bohemia. 
 
 " Why should we suffer for the sake of the Bohemians?" 
 cried an aged citizen. 
 
 " What has Bohemia to do with us ? " muttered others. 
 " We will have no more to do with rebels." The flood 
 of words rose steadily to a hoarse groan of menace ; gather- 
 ing force like an advancing wave, it broke into a fierce 
 roar. " We want peace our rightful peace here. We 
 will have nought to do with Bohemia. Down with the 
 instigator of war ! Death to the preacher of destruction ! 
 Down with Scultetus, who has brought God's vengeance 
 upon us ! " The words were drowned in cries and groans ; 
 already rough hands were laid upon the pulpit wherein 
 Scultetus stood. Several men clambered up and threat- 
 ened the preacher with uplifted fists. " Mercy ! " cried 
 Scultetus, and raised his arm to ward off the blows.
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 127 
 
 " Hold ! " called a clear voice from the royal gallery. 
 " Hold, my friends ! Hearken to me ! " Many in the 
 crowd turned. 
 
 " Silence ! our Prince will speak with us," these said. 
 Those in the foremost ranks of the mob paid no heed ; but 
 gradually, after repeated cries of " Silence ! " the uproar 
 abated and a measure of quiet was restored. 
 
 Prince Friedrich stood in the gallery and faced his 
 people. At sight of him a change took place hi the 
 crowd's attitude. Personal love and loyalty, the memories 
 of a lifetime bound the people to their prince. He stood 
 there with his delicate face flushed, his eyes aglow. Even 
 in the livid light which poured in through the chapel win- 
 dows he looked a splendid and noble prince, well fitted 
 to claim the love of his people. Her Highness Elizabeth 
 stood beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder, and it 
 was as though her touch awakened strength and purpose 
 in his soul. To do him justice, too, he never lacked in 
 courage, and now he did not quail before his angry 
 subjects. 
 
 " Hold ! " he cried again. " Cowards ! Would you lay 
 hands on a defenceless man ? If you have ought to 
 complain of, I am here to answer you ! " He paused, and 
 a murmur ran through the groups of burghers. 
 
 " We want peace, Palsgrave," said one man, stepping 
 forward and speaking up towards the gallery. " God has 
 sent the sign of His wrath to Heidelberg this night ! We 
 first saw the trailing moon in the sky after the Bohemian 
 messengers rode through the town to the castle. That 
 is proof that it is God's warning! We will have no 
 more to do with revolt and bloodshed." 
 
 " And so you raise revolt here against me ? Since when 
 do my people dare to govern me ? " asked Friedrich sternly. 
 " What know you of the councils of princes ? " 
 
 " We want peace and security here hi Heidelberg," the 
 spokesman answered. " We have given gold to yonder 
 preacher for the Bohemians. We will give no more ! 
 Rebellion is sinful ! " 
 
 " Would you hang back, you, men of the Reformed
 
 128 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Faith, when I call on you in the name of God ? Bohemia 
 and the Faith will be crushed by Romish tyranny if we do 
 not aid ! Think you that the oppressor's sword will be 
 sheathed in Bohemian blood ? Nay ! it will be turned 
 upon you upon our land ! Trust me, my Heidelbergers, 
 I will guard your peace, but I will never forsake the cause 
 of our oppressed brethren in Bohemia!" cried the Pals- 
 grave. The burghers whispered together. Another citizen, 
 a substantial, soberly clad personage, stepped forward and 
 addressed the prince. 
 
 " We love you well, Palsgrave Friedrich, you and your 
 dear lady ; but we love our homes and our safety first. 
 God's menace hath rushed into the sky, and we dare not 
 disobey. We adjure you to turn away from the battle- 
 makers, we implore you to shelter us from warfare ! " he 
 said gravely. Prince Friedrich faltered, the exaltation 
 faded from his face, and for a moment he bowed his head. 
 Then Elizabeth Stuart's touch came on his shoulder again, 
 and he turned to her. There was a dawning scorn in her 
 eyes as she saw him waver, and like a spurred horse he 
 returned to the charge. 
 
 " What ! " he cried vehemently, " fear you to fight for 
 your Faith ? Would you tamely submit to Romish idola- 
 try ? And what fear you ? You, who are tutored men, 
 trusted citizens, you tremble before a new star ! you, who 
 would laugh at your own children did they fear the dark, 
 you lose your wits in terror before a heavenly light ! Ah ! 
 you might be craven idolaters, Popish peasants, believing 
 fond tales ! " The Calvinistic burghers fell silent. They 
 were abashed by his scornful words. 
 
 " He speaks truth," some muttered. Now Scultetus 
 lifted his voice in loud and fervent prayer. Turning to the 
 sullen mob, he exhorted them in grave words to courage 
 and good sense ; and, as he spoke, the habit of belief in 
 their pastor returned to the burghers, and they grew calm. 
 
 " Go in peace," Scultetus ended solemnly, " go, believing 
 that God hath not sent this new light as a menace to you, 
 His children, but as an earnest of His goodwill. And shall 
 it not be as with Joshua of old when the Lord bid the sun
 
 THE GREAT WAR'S PRELUDE 129 
 
 to stand still upon Gibeon, and the moon in the valley of 
 Ajalon, while the Amorites were destroyed by God's 
 warriors ? For verily, as the Lord fought for Israel, so He 
 will fight for His children now. And He hath sent a neAv 
 sun to guide us, and yet you are afraid ! Go in peace, and 
 believe this thing unto which I have testified, for I know 
 that the Lord fighteth for Israel." 
 
 Slowly the mob filed out of the chapel. Like chidden 
 children they took their way homewards, and speaking in 
 hushed voices they repeated the preacher's words. 
 
 Silence fell over Heidelberg ; the ringing of bells and 
 the hurried tramp of feet ceased, and safe in their gabled 
 dwellings the burghers were at rest ; while without the 
 wild wind moaned, and over city and castle, over hill and 
 vale, was shed the wan light of the great comet.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 DEPARTURE 
 " O ! Weh ! Die Pfalz ziehet gen Boheim ! " 
 
 DURING three months the comet glowered over 
 Heidelberg. Gradually the fear of the unknown 
 wore off, and the citizens, safe in their comfortable 
 dwellings, forgot that outside their curtained casements 
 the lurid glare lit the hours of night to an eerie false day- 
 light. Those who were abroad after set of sun gazed up 
 at the trailing monster without fear, believing it to be, 
 as Master Scultetus had affirmed, a heavenly beacon to 
 lighten the godly. 
 
 In December her Highness Elizabeth had given birth 
 to her third child, her eldest daughter, Elizabeth, and once 
 more there were rejoicings and wassail at Heidelberg. 
 From Bohemia came but little news ; the rigours of 
 winter had put an end to active hostilities, and though 
 Mansfeld, Thurn, Hohenlohe, and Schlick, with the 
 insurgent forces, still confronted Bucquoi and the Imperi- 
 alists, their real foes were famine and disease, for in the 
 icebound land both armies were perforce inactive. 
 
 All Europe talked of Friedrich as a probable king of 
 Bohemia, and the Princes of the Union in lengthy de- 
 spatches discussed the matter, and gave advice, sometimes 
 for, sometimes against, the crown's acceptance should it 
 be offered. But none knew that the Bohemians had 
 actually proffered the throne to Prince Friedrich ; none 
 knew that he had vowed to be the Bohemians' king and 
 the champion of Protestantism. 
 
 Meanwhile Prince Friedrich waited. His envoy, Count 
 Dohna, wrote out of England that King James would give 
 no definite answer. His Majesty was occupied in weighing 
 the question as to whether the Bohemians had the right to 
 
 ISO
 
 DEPARTURE 131 
 
 elect a king; when he had settled that point he would 
 decide as to the right of an Electoral Prince of the Empire 
 to accept a foreign crown ; when he had decided this he 
 would deliberate as to if he approved of his son-in-law 
 taking so momentous a step. 
 
 Towards the end of January the comet disappeared as 
 suddenly as it had come. It had foretold nothing, since 
 nothing had occurred ; so they said in Heidelberg. Then 
 in March came the news that her Highness's mother, Anne 
 of Denmark, was dead, and popular rumour proclaimed the 
 comet to have foretold the queen's death. Elizabeth 
 Stuart wept the loss of her vain, foolish, kindly mother. 
 The mighty hand of Death smoothed away the remem- 
 brance of Danish Anne's petulance, and of her unwise 
 speeches which had so often disturbed the peace of White- 
 hall. The Court of Heidelberg donned the garments of 
 woe, and her Highness, according to the German mode, re- 
 tired to her own apartments, and lived mewed up like a nun 
 to prove to the indifferent that she mourned her mother. 
 
 "A mark of respect, dear heart; and it is our custom 
 here," said Friedrich pompously. 
 
 " Part of the world's nonsense," her Highness answered 
 wearily; "I would I could mourn my mother in my own way." 
 
 " The world would think you lacked in love to your 
 mother," he said. And he was not wrong, for all the 
 world and even grave historians have recounted in horrified 
 words how King James only wore black for a few days and 
 thus could not have greatly cared for his queen. 
 
 So Elizabeth was cloistered in her own apartments, and 
 added dulness and inaction to the sadness of her heart. 
 Then came the news that the Emperor Matthias was no 
 more, and Europe woke to the fact that a crisis was 
 imminent. After the secret negotiations which had been 
 afoot for months anent the conditions of Friedrich's ac- 
 ceptance of the Bohemian crown, it was mighty awkward 
 for him to be called upon to elect as emperor the very 
 man whom he was scheming to have deposed as king of 
 Bohemia; for directly Matthias had breathed his last, 
 Ferdinand of Styria, the crowned king of Bohemia, laid
 
 132 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 claim to the empire, and the Electors were notified that 
 the election would take place at Frankfurt in August. 
 
 The spring brought good news from Bohemia. Silesia, 
 Moravia, and Lusatia were sending troops to join the in- 
 surgents. Thus all the provinces north of the Danube 
 were ranged against the House of Hapsburg. In June 
 tidings came that Thurn, at the head of ten thousand 
 men, beleagured Vienna. On the other hand it was known 
 that from Flanders, Lorraine, and the Spanish Netherlands 
 reinforcements were hastening to Ferdinand of Styria's 
 aid ; and that Philip III. of Spain had despatched troops 
 which, along with Milanese and Neapolitan forces, were 
 marching through the Tyrol into Austria. 
 
 Towards the middle of June came the unwelcome in- 
 telligence of Mansfeld's crushing defeat by Bucquoi at 
 Zablat ; of Thurn's consequent recall to Bohemia ; and of 
 the mutinous spirit in the Bohemian army. The dishonesty 
 of the Bohemian generals, and, indeed, of all the officers, 
 had raised a revolt among the men-at-arms. The Council 
 at Prague voted inadequate sums for the troops' main- 
 tenance, but even these monies found their way chiefly 
 into the paymasters' pockets, and the troopers were in rags 
 and near starved. A starving, unpaid, mutinous army is 
 a cruel guest to any country, and bitter was the lament of 
 both townsfolk and peasants who were robbed and their 
 homesteads pillaged by the desperate, famine-stricken 
 soldiery. 
 
 When this heavy news was brought to Heidelberg, Fried- 
 rich and his councillors were filled with consternation and 
 dismay, but their gloom was lessened by a despatch which 
 stated that Bethlem Gabor, Prince of Transylvania, had at 
 length openly espoused the Protestant cause, and was send- 
 ing a large force to join the insurgent army. The same 
 messenger brought information of the action of the dila- 
 tory Prague councillors, who had at length voted the 
 much-needed supplies for the army. 
 
 When the appointed time of the Imperial election drew 
 near, John George of Saxony paid Heidelberg a visit. He 
 announced loudly that he intended to vote for Ferdinand
 
 DEPARTURE 133 
 
 of Styria at Frankfurt, and strongly advised Prince Fried- 
 rich to do likewise. As he received evasive answers in the 
 council chamber, he made another attack when her High- 
 ness was present at the banquet. 
 
 " God knows, Palsgrave," he burst out as he set down 
 a beaker of wine which he had drained to the dregs ; " God 
 knows ! you might indeed be thinking of taking the 
 Bohemian crown ! Eh ! what ? " 
 
 " Nay, nay I am not yet decided," answered Friedrich, 
 who could not lie easily. 
 
 " Decided ? " roared his bucolic Highness of Saxony ; " it 
 cannot be a hard question ! You are asked to make a fool 
 of yourself, and you say : ' Many thanks, no ! ' that is all ! 
 Come to Frankfurt with me to-morrow and vote for friend 
 Ferdinand, and put all silly notions from thine head like 
 a wise lad ! " Prince Friedrich flushed angrily. It was 
 insufferable to him that nearly all the Princes of the 
 Union spoke to him and treated him like a boy. 
 
 " I have sent my envoy, Count Solms, to Frankfurt," he 
 answered sullenly ; " I shall not go myself." 
 
 " You must go I " returned the Saxon roughly. " You 
 forget that by inheritance you are the first Elector. You 
 cannot shirk duty thus." 
 
 " I do not shirk duty, your Highness," said Friedrich, 
 " my envoy has my instructions." Elizabeth interposed 
 with a query as to if the wine were to John George's 
 liking, and the dangerous topic was avoided. His High- 
 ness of Saxony went to bed happy and drunk, and the 
 next morning rode away to Frankfurt. 
 
 Solms had a hard task, for the Electors were unanimous 
 in their choice of Ferdinand of Styria, who promised free- 
 dom of worship to the Protestants ; and Solms, furnished 
 with insufficient instructions, also fearing to precipitate 
 affairs if he refused the Palatine's vote, was obliged to 
 acquiesce. So Ferdinand was elected Emperor in due form, 
 and with the vote of Prince Friedrich's accredited envoy. 
 
 Solms rode to Heidelberg with the news, which was 
 received with consternation by Friedrich, with fury by 
 old Anhalt, and with fear by Master Scultetus. Three
 
 134 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 days afterwards a deputation arrived from Prague telling 
 how, on the same day as the election in Frankfurt, the 
 Bohemian states had solemnly deposed Ferdinand and 
 proclaimed Prince Friedrich King of Bohemia. 
 
 And now for the first time, in the leaders of this 
 Bohemian deputation, the Lady Elizabeth was confronted 
 with specimens of her future subjects. Count Thurn 
 was a handsome man of polished manners, familiar with 
 courtly ways, and he spoke both French and German, 
 having been educated in Vienna ; but Count Schlick was 
 only master of a few words of German, and he had all the 
 hostility of manner which gives the Czech a bad name ; 
 an hostility which is, in truth, only pride and shyness, and 
 which a soft word or a smile can convert into an impulsive 
 and grateful tenderness. Prince Friedrich, thoroughly 
 German, stiff and formal at the wrong moment, was help- 
 less before this class of being ; but Elizabeth, spontaneous 
 and warm-hearted, always forgetting formality, immedi- 
 ately won the old man's heart. He bent the knee before 
 her, and she gave him both her strong, white hands. 
 
 " Tell him," she said to Thurn, " that those who give a 
 crown do not kneel. Rather should we kneel to those 
 who make us rulers of so brave a country as Bohemia." 
 Count Thurn translated her words. 
 
 " Oppression and sadness have made us all poets in 
 Bohemia, and a poet must ever kneel at the feet of beauty 
 and purity," said old Schlick. 
 
 " Tell him that I pray God we may give happiness to 
 the Bohemians, but they must remain poets in spite of 
 joy," she said to Thurn when he had translated Schlick's 
 words. So the Bohemians departed, and took a very 
 rhapsody to their country, as to how fair and sweet a lady 
 would be their queen. And their king ? Just what they 
 needed, so they affirmed: a handsome, courteous youth who 
 would be easily guided. In fact they wanted a figurehead, 
 a stick to hang a crown on. They did not seek a man to 
 govern them, for that they opined they could do well enough 
 for themselves ; but they wanted a name to conjure with, 
 and they deemed that Friedrich Prince Palatine and his
 
 DEPARTURE 135 
 
 fair Pearl of Loveliness would be a most suitable name 
 king and queen. 
 
 For two hundred years there had existed in Bohemia a 
 traditional love of England. Already early in the fifteenth 
 century the well-beloved Bohemian patriot and reformer, 
 Master John Hus, had spoken of " blessed England." Hus 
 disclaimed the heretical opinions of Wy cliff e ; still the 
 English reformer's pure life and magnificent denunciation 
 of the immorality of the priesthood had inspired Hus with 
 deep sympathy and had led him to study Wycliffe's works, 
 a study wherefore Hus paid a heavy enough price. Later 
 in Bohemia's troublous history the oppressed Protestants 
 had looked with yearning eyes to England, where their 
 Faith reigned omnipotent. And thus the English Princess, 
 Elizabeth Stuart, seemed to the Bohemians to be the 
 queen chosen of God for them, and the thought of her 
 banished any reluctance which they felt to elect a German 
 prince for their king ; for the hatred of the Germans still 
 smouldered in every Bohemian breast, a hatred fully 
 justified by the Bohemian history of three hundred 
 years. 
 
 The Heidelbergers saw the prospective elevation of their 
 prince to a throne with mingled feelings. It was an 
 honour, and they were proud for their well-beloved rulers, 
 and yet they dreaded the loss of a Court in Heidelberg. As 
 the days wore on this feeling deepened, and general de- 
 pression and anxiety reigned in the city, whereas at the 
 castle all was joy and elation, and a grand festival was 
 ordered for the night before their new Majesties' departure. 
 The morning brought the Electress-Dowager to Heidel- 
 berg. For many weeks she had written letters of warning 
 to her son, and now she had arrived, a Cassandra presaging 
 woe. She summoned Friedrich and Elizabeth to her 
 chamber, and after dismissing her attendants, she asked 
 sternly if their Highnesses' departure for Bohemia was 
 indeed fixed for the morrow. 
 
 " But, madame, you have been informed of the matter 
 from the outset," cried Friedrich impatiently. 
 
 " I have ever counselled you to reject the crown, and
 
 136 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 now I lay a mother's commands upon you to do so ere it 
 is too late," she returned. 
 
 " In all respect, madame, I cannot content you in this 
 matter," he said, " and methinks a mother's commands 
 can only be laid on an unripe youth." 
 
 " You forget, madame mere, that Friedrich is a grown 
 man ! " cried her Highness. 
 
 " And you forget, madame ma fille, that in Germany we 
 are so unmodish as to keep parental respect, aye, and 
 authority, all the days of our life," the old Electress 
 retorted sharply. 
 
 " It is an absurd tyranny, madame ; the tyranny of old 
 age over youth breeds ugly thoughts ! We must be free 
 to follow our destiny once we are grown men and women," 
 said Elizabeth hotly. 
 
 " To your undoing, madame ? " queried Juliane in a grim 
 tone. 
 
 She spoke long and gravely of the risks attendant upon 
 grasping a crown, of the jealousy which each Protestant 
 prince would harbour secretly against a member of the 
 Union who should rise to regal honours, of the instability 
 of the Bohemians, of the awe-inspiring power of Austria. 
 She warned Friedrich that in case of failure as Bohemian 
 king he would lose his Electorate and even his hereditary 
 Palatinate lands. From warning and exhortation Juliane 
 passed to supplication, but, as Friedrich told her, it was 
 too late. 
 
 " How can I go back from my written and spoken word, 
 madame ma mere ? " he urged. 
 
 " You will forfeit all for the sake of a short span of 
 kingship," the old Electress said in a sad voice. 
 
 " Courage, madame," cried her Highness gaily. " Believe 
 me, I had liefer eat sauerkraut with a king than fare 
 sumptuously with a Palsgrave ! " 
 
 " Madame ma fille, that is an ugly saying," Juliane 
 answered angrily. 
 
 " Ah ! dear madame, I do not mean it in such dire 
 earnest ! But I do mean that we dare not waver now 
 dare not for our honour's sake," said Elizabeth gravely.
 
 DEPARTURE 137 
 
 " We must follow destiny be it good or evil ; but a brave 
 heart is a mighty alchemist, that I can warrant." 
 
 It was a dismal day. The wind drove the rain into 
 a vast dim curtain over the valley, hiding the distant 
 plain and blurring the outline of the Heiligenberg. 
 Towards evening the storm relented, and a pale gleam 
 of sunshine came through the clouds. 
 
 In the banqueting hall the King Elect sat at dinner 
 with his guests. All the nobles of the Palatinate were 
 assembled at this farewell feast, and their ladies would 
 repair later to the Hall of Mirrors to bid adieu and God- 
 speed to the Pfalzgrafin Elizabeth. It would not be a 
 mournful farewell, for it was known that their new Majes- 
 ties fully intended to spend a portion of each year in their 
 castle of Heidelberg ; and further, that both the King and 
 the Queen had issued a cordial invitation to the noble 
 youths and maidens of the Palatinate to grace the Court at 
 Prague. So there was merriment in the banqueting hall, 
 and in the Hall of Mirrors there was to be a grand ball. 
 
 Elizabeth and her Highness Juliane did not attend the 
 banquet, they would only appear at the ball. There were 
 many preparations for the journey on the morrow. " Tell 
 your guests that your goodwife is busy making her bundle 
 to carry with her into Bohemia," Elizabeth had said gaily. 
 
 There was one sad little face in Heidelberg Castle that 
 day, little Karl Ludwig's. For Karlutz, as his father called 
 him, was deemed too young to be taken to Prague, and he 
 and his baby sister Elizabeth were to be left at Franken- 
 thal in the care of the Electress Juliane. Prince Henry 
 Friedrich, having reached the mature age of five years, 
 was to accompany his parents, and he was wild with joy 
 at the prospect of a journey. 
 
 Elizabeth sat in her withdrawing room, little Karlutz 
 leaned against her knee, while the tiny Princess Elizabeth 
 lay sleeping in an oaken cradle at her side. Prince Henry 
 was rushing about playing at stag-hunting. Elizabeth 
 Stuart's eyes rested on him fondly ; this, her first-born, was 
 the child of her heart. 
 
 The boy paused in his noisy game.
 
 138 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " I'mgoing to Prague, and you'll stay here alone, brother," 
 he said proudly, giving little Karlutz a push. The child 
 raised a whimpering cry. He was old enough to under- 
 stand that every one was going away somewhere and he 
 was to be left behind. 
 
 " Poor sweeting," said Elizabeth softly to the crying child 
 " poor forsaken sweeting." She lifted Karlutz to her 
 knee. Now it seemed to her that she could not leave her 
 children. 
 
 " I'm going to Prague to be a king and shoot stags ! " 
 announced Prince Henry, " and Karlutz will stay here and 
 be eaten by wolves ! " he added. At this the little fellow's 
 whimpering rose to a yell, for though he was far too young 
 to understand, yet he felt that something was going to 
 happen, and his mother's pitying tone told him it was 
 something terrible. Baby Elizabeth awoke screaming. 
 
 " What bad bairns ! " cried Elizabeth Stuart. " As Mis- 
 tress Margaret Hay my nurse used to say to me : ' Ye 
 are a bad bairn and good for nothing.' " She rose and 
 summoned her ladies from the antechamber. 
 
 " Take these noisy ones," she commanded, " I shall go 
 into the plaisance with Henry for a while till it is time to 
 dress for the ball." She passed down the shallow-stepped 
 stairway and out on to the terrace near the Dicke Thurm. 
 For a moment she gazed over the parapet across the town 
 roofs to the peaceful valley. The sun was setting in a fiery 
 ball, and already the mist rose thickly from the drenched 
 fields beyond the city. Elizabeth drew Prince Henry's 
 little cloak more closely round him. 
 
 " Come, my Hal," she said, " we will go and say farewell 
 to the gardens and the orchard." 
 
 She pushed open the postern which led to her own 
 garden. Autumn's rude touch had weighed heavy on the 
 flowers, and they lay blackened and beaten to the wet earth 
 by the fierce rain. Summer was gone and the glory of the 
 world seemed forgotten. Elizabeth Stuart felt a sense of 
 dreariness and foreboding creep over her. Somehow she 
 wished that she could have bidden farewell to her beloved 
 garden when the flowers were in their splendour of spring
 
 DEPARTURE 139 
 
 or summer. She walked down the pathway to the gate 
 which Friedrich had caused to be built for her in a single 
 night. She told Hal the story. 
 
 " Did my father build it with his own hands ? " the little 
 fellow asked. 
 
 "Nay, he caused others to build it," she answered, 
 laughing. 
 
 " I would have built it for you myself, mother," he said 
 proudly. " It is nothing to make other people build I 
 would build for myself ! " 
 
 How like Hal was to his dead namesake, her dear 
 brother Henry, she thought ; the same confident earnest- 
 ness, the same eager spirit, the wish to work honestly. 
 And this boy would one day be King of Bohemia this 
 boy might fulfil the promise of true kingship by right of 
 noble purpose, which Death had wrested from that other 
 Hal. She shuddered perchance Death would ravish this 
 Hal from her too before there was time for the fulfilment of 
 so fair a promise ? What had come to her ? Why did such 
 drear sentiments assail her, she asked herself impatiently ? 
 She laid her hand upon the stonework of the archway, 
 and promised herself that next year, when the world was 
 full of summer again, and kingship assured, she would 
 return to this archway and lay her hand here once more. 
 
 " Come, Hal," she called. She took her way round the 
 Dicke Thurm and down the terraced gardens to the rosery. 
 Silently she bid farewell to the rose trees. 
 
 " You see, Hal, we must say adieu to our dear garden," 
 she said, " only adieu till next year. When the roses 
 bloom again we will come home out of Bohemia to pluck 
 the flowers." 
 
 She wandered on through the rosery and beside the 
 flowering parterres, past the orangery and the water gar- 
 dens, where Neptune, surrounded by mermaids, poured 
 from trident and uplifted shells cascades of clear water, 
 and dolphins spouted streams from their gaping mouths 
 into the stone tanks. She came to her orchard, which 
 stretched down in a gentle slope towards the river Neckar. 
 Prince Hal ran on before her, and she followed at a leisurely
 
 140 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 pace, for her thoughts were busy with the future. Of a 
 sudden the little fellow gave a cry. 
 
 " Look, mother ! " he called. " Look ! the ugly crea- 
 tures ! " He fled back to his mother. 
 
 " Mother mother ! they are coming up the hill ! " he 
 said, near sobbing with terror. 
 
 " Nay, Hal ! What is it ? " she said soothingly. "Was 
 it a frog or a slug ? Dear heart, you must not be afraid 
 of any animal. Ah ! " She finished with an excla- 
 mation of surprise, for from out the edge of the long grass 
 there peered at her a strange, horrid little head, and with 
 a jerking movement an animal came towards her. She 
 stood rooted to the spot, for it seemed as if the whole of 
 the orchard slope had become alive with uncouth, black, 
 sleek forms advancing steadily. 
 
 The light of the short autumn day was failing, and a 
 white mist rose from the low ground wherefroni the crea- 
 tures came. 
 
 " Hush, Hal," she said tremulously, " they are only 
 the Neckar newts, harmless little animals." But the 
 boy clung to her, and clambered up into her arms. 
 
 " Mother mother ! they are going to run over me with 
 their cold, clammy feet. Oh ! oh ! " he wailed. She held 
 him fast, though his weight was much for her. 
 
 " They cannot touch you, dearling," she whispered, but 
 she felt that she too was trembling ; she felt that if one of 
 those uncouth, slimy creatures were to touch her to walk 
 over her foot she must scream aloud. 
 
 The newts advanced from out the long grass down the 
 slope as in an army. She could see the vivid orange stripe 
 on each swiftly turning flat head ; she could see their cran- 
 ing necks, their plump, brown bodies, and their webbed feet. 
 A sense of physical sickness seized her. The animals had 
 reached the pathway where she stood ; some had jerked 
 past her and were trailing up the bank behind her but 
 there seemed no end of them. They were all around 
 her. . . . 
 
 " Ah ! " she cried aloud. One of the creatures had 
 touched her foot. Should she fly ? She made a step
 
 DEPARTURE 141 
 
 forward, and again her shoe touched a plump, sleek, slimy 
 body. She closed her eyes. Courage ! They were only 
 river animals. But an army of them here in her orchard ? 
 
 " Mother oh ! you are letting me fall," the child wailed. 
 Her pride came to her rescue ; she would not behave like 
 a timorous waiting-maid. Fighting back that awful feel- 
 ing of sickened disgust which rose in her throat, she 
 strained the little fellow to her breast and stood like some 
 figure of defiance and despair, but with closed eyes and 
 beating heart. It seemed to her as if the creatures' 
 webbed feet touched her constantly, as if their fat, dank 
 bodies pressed around her. She fancied that a fetid, un- 
 wholesome smell filled her nostrils. 
 
 At length she opened her eyes. The animals were 
 gone ; and the melancholy tranquillity of the orchard 
 seemed to rebuke her for her fear. Hal still clung round 
 her neck, and now she felt the weight of the well-grown 
 five-year-old boy to be intolerable. She tried to set him 
 down, but he clutched wildly at her, crying : 
 
 " They will walk over me. Mother mother ! keep 
 me safe ! " 
 
 " They are gone, Hal," she said, " you need not fear them 
 now." It seemed to her that she had dreamed those 
 strange intruders in the well-known peaceful orchard 
 could have been but figments of her fancy. She stooped 
 and set Hal on his feet. 
 
 " Be a cavalier, Hal of mine," she said. " Do not act 
 like a silly maiden." She noticed that the pathway was 
 traced with dozens of imprints where the webbed feet had 
 squelched into the soft red mud, and she saw that the 
 creature which had passed over her foot had left a smudge 
 of whitish slime on her shoe. Once more disgust seized 
 her, and she turned sick and faint. 
 
 " Come, Hal," she said, and gripping the little fellow's 
 hand firmly in her own she hurried away. She met a 
 gardener in the rosery. 
 
 " Have you ever seen hundreds of Neckar newts in the 
 orchard ? " she asked. 
 
 " I've seen a few of the nasty efts sometimes, your
 
 142 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Highness," said the man. " We say in the country here 
 that when they march in an army they go to a funeral, 
 or to bid farewell to a wanderer who will never return to 
 this land ; but I've never seen them marching, your 
 Highness." He looked at Elizabeth inquisitively. 
 
 "They are harmless animals enough," she returned 
 carelessly; but a sense of desolation and despair crept 
 over her. 
 
 " Good night ! " she said to the man kindly. 
 
 " Good night, and God bring your Highness safe back to 
 us out of Bohemia," the gardener answered deferentially. 
 
 " God grant it ! " she said under her breath as she passed 
 on towards the castle. 
 
 On the morning of their Majesties' departure leaden 
 clouds lowered over the Heiligenberg as if in sullen anger, 
 and the valley towards Ladenburg was shut out by a 
 dense wall of mist. In the city the rain beat fiercely on 
 the red roofs and splashed unceasingly over the rough, 
 uneven cobblestones of the narrow streets. Towards eight 
 of the clock the bells of the Heilig-Geist Kirche rang out, 
 and the citizens gathered quickly on the market-place 
 near the church. 
 
 It was a black-robed crowd, for the burghers had donned 
 their sombre winter mantles to shield them from the 
 downpour, and in the chill, grey light of the morning 
 it seemed to be a funeral company gathered there. The 
 dark forms issued from the narrow streets and joined 
 their fellow-citizens in the Marktplatz, where the men 
 spoke together in hushed voices, and the women wept. 
 Truly, there was sorrow in Heidelberg that day. 
 
 The crowd streamed into the church. In the lofty, 
 pillared naves the darkness was almost of night. No light 
 was upon the bare altar, before which stood the long, plain 
 table where the Calvinists partook gloomily of the feast 
 of remembrance, the Lord's Supper. On the pulpit two 
 lights flickered. For some time the black-gowned con- 
 gregation stood waiting, and it seemed as though they 
 were expecting the advent of some funeral train, as if
 
 DEPARTURE 143 
 
 each moment the awesome, heavy, careful tread of coffin- 
 bearers must break the silence. Overhead the bell still 
 rang, and its tolling seemed to be a knell for the departed. 
 
 With a swift step a young man entered the church, a 
 slender youth with large, melancholy dark eyes, and a 
 pointed beard. On the ruff of fine white linen his brown 
 hair fell in glossy ringlets, one of which was plaited into 
 a pearl earring which fell from one ear only. His cloak, 
 tunic, and trunk hose were of black velvet, and as he 
 moved the cloak fell back, showing upon his breast a 
 flashing jewel hanging on a broad blue ribbon from 
 beneath the ruff. He was followed by some half-dozen 
 attendants soberly clad like himself. These formed a 
 group at the base of the nave, while Friedrich the Pals- 
 grave passed on and took his place in a chair before the 
 pulpit. From the sacristy, whence in olden times had 
 come forth priests in the splendour of rich vestments, 
 now came a small, grave-faced man in black raiment, who 
 took his place in the pulpit. It was Master Scultetus, 
 and he spoke his text in a harsh voice : " Behold My 
 servant whom I uphold ; Mine elect hi whom My soul 
 delighteth; I have put My spirit upon him, he shall 
 bring forth judgment to the Gentiles." Solemnly the 
 preacher recounted the choosing of Friedrich of the 
 Palatinate by the Bohemians, how these Lutherans had 
 been led by the hand of God to elect a king of the pure 
 faith of Calvin. He spoke of the splendour of Friedrich's 
 mission, yet he warned the congregation that as the 
 knights of old had perished in the crusades against the 
 infidels, so might the champion of Protestantism be called 
 upon to lay down his life in this crusade? against idolatry 
 and oppression. 
 
 " Bid him farewell your Palsgrave," the preacher cried, 
 " for verily, ye may see him no more ! And yet such is 
 the justice of God that ye may look forward confidently 
 to a glad greeting of your prince. For God shall lead 
 him back to you in peace after the hosts of the Philistines 
 and their Hapsburg Goliath have fallen before the sling 
 of this new David." Triumphantly the preacher's voice
 
 144 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 echoed through the vaulted aisles of the Heilig-Geist 
 church, and yet that verbiage of biblical language so dear to 
 the hearts of the Calvinists failed for once to stir the con- 
 gregation. They were men of peace after all, and though 
 they loved to thunder forth texts and to garnish their 
 talk with Old Testament allusions, it was quite another 
 thing to see their well-beloved Palsgrave go forth to 
 battle with the overwhelming forces of Hapsburg, and to 
 lose the remunerative presence of a permanent Court at 
 Heidelberg. Friedrich sat motionless, his melancholy eyes 
 fixed and thoughtful, his cheeks pale with emotion ; a poor, 
 weak, willing David, all unfit to contend with any Goliath ! 
 
 At length the preacher ceased speaking, and for a 
 moment the sound of the raindrops beating against the 
 windows usurped the place of the voice of prayer. In 
 spite of Master Scultetus's vehemence the dismal baldness 
 of the Calvinistic form of worship was flat and uninspir- 
 ing. How different had an organ pealed, had a thousand 
 tapers lit the ancient church to beauty, had vestments 
 and glowing altar-cloths given warmth and colour to the 
 grey stone of that Gothic pile ! If, instead of the heavy, 
 rank odour of wet garments, the fragrance of incense had 
 filled the air ! Verily, the " harlot of Rome " knew how 
 to thrill souls, knew it better than that stern woman of 
 unalluring virtue, the Calvinistic matron. 
 
 Carefully Scultetus blew out the two candles on the 
 pulpit and descended the steps into the church. His 
 tread creaked discordantly as he hurried into the sacristy. 
 The King Elect rose and passed down the central nave 
 to the porch. 
 
 " Farewell, my friends ! " he said huskily to those who 
 had followed him from the church. " Farewell ! God 
 grant you prosperity. Farewell ! Farewell ! " he repeated, 
 as they crowded round him. 
 
 A venerable burgher, the aged -Master-Builder Jordan, 
 broke out in loud weeping. 
 
 " Palsgrave, Palsgrave ! do not leave us," he sobbed. 
 " 'Tis a long road to Bohemia, and we shall weary without 
 you and your dear lady."
 
 DEPARTURE 145 
 
 As if the old man's words had unlocked a flood- 
 gate of speech, cries and supplications burst forth. 
 The citizens pressed round the King Elect, crying out : 
 " Stay with us, your Highness ! Oh ! go not to Bohemia. 
 Rule us in peace and plenty. Do not tempt the wrath of 
 God by travellings. Alas ! alas ! if you go we shall never 
 see you more. Never more ! Alas ! never more ! " 
 
 Friedrich stood irresolute. Their emotion caught him, 
 and he wept with them. " I will return to you I go but 
 for a little time," he stammered. Now the crowd which 
 had stood beyond the church doors swept in, Women 
 threw themselves upon their knees at his feet. " Do not 
 leave us ! " they wailed. " Stay with us or we are lost ! 
 If you go we shall never see you more ! " 
 
 A madness seemed to have seized the orderly Heidel- 
 bergers, a very frenzy of grief and apprehension. They 
 clutched his mantle, they kissed its hem. A weeping 
 woman flung her arms around his knees, crying : " Alas ! 
 alas ! Prince, you go to destruction ! " Friedrich raised her. 
 
 " I go to do my duty," he said gently. 
 
 " That duty is a vain thing which leads a prince to 
 forsake his people ! " a voice called in the crowd. At this 
 moment Scultetus, Carnerarius the State secretary, Count 
 Schomberg, and the other gentlemen shouldered their 
 way through the crowd to the King's side. They tore 
 his cloak from out the people's grasp, and hurried him 
 away across the market-place. But the sound of the 
 people's wailing followed him as he passed up the steep 
 hill to the castle. 
 
 Here all was hurry, and it was a relief to Friedrich to 
 be in the commonplace of life. It seemed to him that 
 he had escaped from some irksome dream, as if that 
 scene in the Heilig-Geist Kirche had been unreal, some 
 doleful history that had been told to him. He welcomed 
 the signs of approaching travel which he saw in the 
 courtyard. Huge wooden cases stood about, and into 
 these the serving-men were piling up velvet bed-hang- 
 ings and silken coverlets, or packages of linen. There a 
 stout carpenter was fitting bars around her Highness's 
 
 K
 
 146 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 carven chairs, half-a-dozen henchmen staggered across 
 the yard bearing chests of silver, and others laboured 
 beneath loads of priceless tapestries. It was all so com- 
 fortably familiar to the King ! How often had he seen 
 such preparations for travel ! Without all this baggage 
 no prince, or even wealthy traveller, could journey, for 
 who could trust to the sorry accommodation of roadside 
 hostelries ? So beds and chairs, tapestries, linen, silver, 
 and even the kitchen utensils were carried in waggons, 
 or on sumpter-horses behind the coaches of the great. 
 
 On this occasion much was to be conveyed to Prague. 
 Although it was known that the Hradcany Palace con- 
 tained the pictures and statues, ivories and carvings 
 which Rudolf, the Emperor-antiquary, had treasured there, 
 who could say if her new Majesty of Bohemia would find 
 those luxuries of life which were necessary to her ? 
 Already several well-guarded companies of sumptermen 
 with laden horses had been despatched into Bohemia; 
 but the country was full of skirmishing bands from 
 Bucquoi's army near Budweis ; and worse still, it was 
 whispered, with famished, marauding deserters from the 
 Bohemian forces, and it was feared that the King's 
 baggage would never reach Prague. Though Mansfeld 
 held the town of Pilsen, since his defeat at Zablat he 
 sulked behind the ramparts, and afforded but scant aid 
 to any traveller. And so, for the most part, the King 
 and Queen's baggage was to follow them, well guarded 
 like themselves. Their route lay through Ansbach to 
 Amberg, the last Palatine town before the Bohemian 
 frontier. Here it was designed to make a long halt, for 
 the quaint mediaeval city with the mighty walls, the 
 ninety-seven watch-towers, and the ancient gabled castle 
 on the banks of the river Vils, had ever been a favourite 
 abode of her Highness Elizabeth and the Palsgrave. 
 
 It was cheering to Friedrich to reflect that he but 
 journeyed at first to well-known Amberg ; somehow he 
 felt that he could not have faced his entry into Bohemia 
 with the wailing of his faithful Heidelbergers still ring- 
 ing in his ears. He hurried through the courtyard to
 
 DEPARTURE 147 
 
 the English Palace. In the " supper parlour " a repast 
 was set out, and in the embrasure of the latticed window 
 her Highness sat waiting. Around her were her ladies, 
 Amalia Solnis and the four English damsels who had 
 journeyed to Heidelberg to learn the duties of maids of 
 honour to the new Queen of Bohemia. There were 
 Mistress Bridget Clovelly and Mistress Joan Stanley, 
 iny Lady Phyllis Devereux, who had been Elizabeth 
 Stuart's playmate in the happy days at Combe, and 
 Mistress Alison Hay, cousin to my Lord Viscount Don- 
 caster, newly created Earl of Carlisle, the Ambassador. 
 A right merry company, but decorous and graceful in 
 their merriment, as befitted ladies of such gentle birth. 
 They gathered round the breakfast-table, which, in the 
 English fashion, was decked with snowy napery. Her 
 Highness Elizabeth would have none of the German 
 modes no polished oaken board or gorgeous velvet 
 coverings ; she loved her table to be spread with fair 
 white linen, and would only permit the serving-men to 
 clear away the tablecloth before the fruit was served at 
 dinner or at supper time. 
 
 Her Highness Louise Juliane entered, and Elizabeth 
 Stuart and the ladies bent before her in deep courtesies, 
 then the company partook of their morning meal. And 
 a copious refection it was : there were " siipplein " broths 
 of mixed meat and cream, there were pasties and game, 
 " hahnlein " roast (small chickens), and " hahnlein " baked, 
 wine possets strongly spiced, ale and sack, and a vast 
 assortment of cakes and baked sweetmeats. 
 
 The merriment soon banished the shadow from the 
 King's brow. He jested with the maids of honour, teased 
 my Lady Phyllis Devereux about the stories her Highness 
 had told of their childish pranks at Combe, rallied Mistress 
 Alison Hay about barbarous Scotland, asked her if she 
 would make her entry into Prague like her cousin my 
 Lord of Carlisle did at Paris, with pearls sewn so loosely on 
 her raiment that they fell off for the populace to gather up. 
 
 During this young gaiety Louise Juliane sat silent. She 
 was oppressed by doleful forebodings, and, God knows, the
 
 148 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 jangle of unshared merriment, the laughter wherein we do 
 not join, is torture to an aching heart. The repast ended, 
 and King Friedrich called for a goblet of wine. 
 
 " Madame ma mere," he cried, rising to his feet, " I 
 would fain pledge you in a cup of sack ! " He lifted the 
 silver goblet high, and, half jesting, he cried: 
 
 " To our next merry meeting, madame mere ! " Then 
 seeing her troubled face he whispered to her in German : 
 " Mutterlein, sei nit traurig, lieV M'iitterlein ! " 
 
 Louise Juliane rose, and she, too, lifted her goblet high. 
 " I pledge you, sweet son " she said, but the tears 
 choked her and she could not drink. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart rose hastily. " We must not tarry 
 longer ! " she cried. " It is time we were on the road if 
 we would sleep in Ansbach this night." 
 
 Her ladies brought her brown velvet travelling mantle 
 and the high-crowned felt hat with the long feather. 
 After she had donned these, she stood silent, gazing round 
 the supper parlour. A wave of sadness swept over her. 
 She had passed so many peaceful hours here with Fried- 
 rich, Christel, and her ladies, and she had learned to love 
 the oak-panelled room. Ah, how fanciful she was growing! 
 She would see this homely parlour a thousand times 
 again ? Was she not returning to Heidelberg next 
 year ? Yes, after the formal banquets, after the busi- 
 ness of regal pomp at Prague, she would come home to 
 Heidelberg and rest before she resumed the splendour of 
 a queen. 
 
 " Farewell, madame mere," she said gaily. " Ah, be 
 not so sad, madame ! I am, as usual, of my wild humour 
 to be merry, and you must not grieve ; we shall be here 
 again before to-morrow year has waned ! " She embraced 
 Louise Juliane fondly, and, calling her ladies, took her way 
 down the winding stair laughing and talking. In the 
 ante-hall she found Karlutz, and the baby Elizabeth asleep 
 in her nurse's arms. 
 
 " See, ma mere," she called to Juliane, " I leave you 
 two brave little consolers who, I warrant, will plague you 
 mightily. But, madame, I shall rob you of these naughty
 
 DEPARTURE 149 
 
 ones right swiftly. I must have them in Prague to show 
 the Bohemians what goodly bairns their King hath." 
 
 She bent and kissed Karlutz. " Be a brave little cava- 
 lier," she whispered. Gently she laid her hand on the 
 sleeping baby. " I will not waken her, sweet mite," she 
 said, and passed out of the stately portal to the courtyard 
 where the coach stood, with Prince Hal already ensconced 
 in the cushioned seat. Old Curly, the spaniel, had 
 followed her Highness, and now he tried to jump into 
 the coach. 
 
 " Not this time, my Curly, no ! But next year I will 
 fetch you away too," she said. The faithful dog looked 
 at her with despairing, questioning eyes. 
 
 " Poor Curly ! " she said, and bent to stroke him. 
 " No, good friend, I cannot take you." A tear stole down 
 her Highness's cheek, the others understood, but this faith- 
 ful friend, she thought, only knew that he was forsaken. 
 She caught up her monkey a descendant and namesake 
 of the first Jacko and with the little brown creature in 
 her arms, she entered the coach. 
 
 " Why may not Curly come too ? " asked Prince Hal 
 indignantly. 
 
 " He is so old and frail, dearling, he will be safest here," 
 she said. 
 
 " Poor Curly, we shall see him never more," the little 
 boy said, and fell to weeping bitterly. 
 
 "Next year, Hal, next year," she answered, but her 
 heart misgave her. Why did every one say "Nevermore?" 
 What foolishness ! To-morrow year, or perhaps with 
 the third bloom of the roses, she would be back in 
 Heidelberg. 
 
 The heavy coaches moved on. The King Elect and 
 his suite rode beside Elizabeth Stuart's carosse, despite 
 the beating rain. Turning in his saddle, Friedrich called 
 merrily : " Farewell till next year ! " 
 
 But for answer Louise Juliane threw up her arms with 
 a despairing cry : " Ah, woe to me ! There rideth the 
 Palatine to doom ! "
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 HUMILIATION 
 
 " The dreamy air is full and overflows 
 With tender memories of the summertide." 
 
 LONGFELLOW. 
 
 AFTER the tedious two days of travel through the 
 /\ rain-drenched country from Heidelberg, Elizabeth 
 ^ -^- Stuart was right happy to rest at Am berg. She 
 loved the quiet old city, which lay as though cloistered 
 by the grim mediaeval walls, guarded by ninety-seven 
 watch-towers. The castle was small and homely compared 
 with the splendour of Heidelberg, but there was something 
 infinitely peaceful in that old-world garden, which sloped 
 down to the river and the ancient bridge, whose two 
 rounded arches, with their reflection on the still surface 
 of the water, formed the " town spectacles," as the citizens 
 said. It was a prosperous city, for the country round was 
 rich in iron ; and the townsfolk, albeit of simple, unpre- 
 tentious habits, were industrious, orderly, and contented. 
 Perhaps during these quiet days at Arnberg it was the 
 last time in her life that Elizabeth Stuart felt that sense 
 of guarded peace, of prosperous security. 
 
 Early one morning she sallied forth to the market-place 
 with Amalia Solms and Prince Hal. It was her whim to 
 play at the burgher's wife for once. She had discarded 
 her fardingale and had donned a black velvet cloak and a 
 tall, black felt hat with a sweeping plume, and thus attired 
 she wandered down the narrow streets. A chill morning 
 haze still veiled the city after the many days of rain, but 
 a pale gleam of sun touched the red roofs and lit the 
 streets to a dewy, glistening beauty. In the market-place, 
 before the Rathaus, the peasants gathered round their 
 stalls, which were heaped up with a wealth of vegetables, 
 
 150
 
 HUMILIATION 151 
 
 with fresh, brown-shelled eggs, and creamy yellow butter. 
 The merchants 1 wives, followed by serving-wenches, basket 
 on arm, moved about choosing their daily provisions. The 
 worthy matrons wore their Amberg costume : neat buckled 
 shoes, full skirts, bodices of plain dark cloth, with folded 
 cross-overs of dainty white muslin, and the finely -woven, 
 gilt filet caps, accurate copies of those their grandmothers 
 and great-gran'dams had worn. For the world's fancies 
 and fashions changed but slowly in those days, and in 
 peaceful Amberg love and life passed on to death softly 
 and at leisure, leaving the picture of the city's life un- 
 altered, save that other faces looked out from the little 
 gilded caps ; other hearts beat beneath the goffered muslin 
 cross-overs. Monotony perchance ; yet to the wanderer 
 there is sweetness in one draught of that cup of peace 
 which monotony brews. True, for the daily drink this 
 sweetness is cloying, but to the wanderer it is delicious, 
 in some pause of journeying, to quaff this slow-brewed 
 draught. And to Elizabeth Stuart it seemed very sweet 
 and wholesome. She wandered on among the market- 
 booths, smiling at the surprise and admiration which she 
 read on the people's faces, for they soon recognised her, 
 and the whisper went round the market-place that the 
 Pfalzgrafin was among them. 
 
 There clattered across the cobble-stoned square a train 
 of gallants. Elizabeth Stuart drew back into the shelter 
 of the Rathaus portal. Her dream of leisured, common- 
 place life was shattered by the sight of the riders, for 
 among them she recognised Count Christopher Dohna, 
 Friedrich's envoy to England, and she saw that his face 
 was overshadowed with anxiety. She had long dreaded 
 his return ; for, knowing her father's character, she had 
 always feared that James's habitual procrastination was 
 a cloak for his wily, ungenerous policy, and that in the 
 end he would refuse his aid to the Protestant Princes. 
 
 With a heavy heart she retraced her steps to the castle. 
 It was her destiny, she told herself sadly, that whenever 
 she felt at peace the shadow of State affairs should fall 
 upon her, and yet she chid herself, for she knew that he
 
 152 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 who plays on the great stage of life must sacrifice leisure, 
 security, and peace. She smiled when she thought of 
 herself living her life in the guarded monotony of a city 
 like Amberg. No ! her place was in the highway of life. 
 Better, she thought, to live each hour in poignant ecstacy 
 of endeavour, of action, even of tragedy, than to be lulled 
 to the sleep of death through a lifetime of drowsy content. 
 
 With head erect and proud step she passed through 
 the autumn-ravaged garden to the castle. In the long, 
 low, panelled parlour she found Friedrich, Count Solms, 
 Camerarius the secretary, Master Scultetus, and Baron 
 Christopher Dohna. The King Elect held a letter in his 
 hand ; his expression was one of troubled perplexity. 
 
 "News out of England, my Lord of Dohna?" asked 
 Elizabeth cheerfully as she entered. " And no good news, 
 as I see by your rueful looks ! " 
 
 Dohna bent the knee before her. " Your Majesty," 
 he said, " I am the bearer of no tidings, alack ! I have 
 no definite answer from your royal father." Elizabeth 
 Stuart laughed gaily. 
 
 " Ah ! sir, let me tell you your own tidings, for a 
 daughter's heart can hear a parent's words from afar ! 
 My father says he must weigh the legal precedents of all 
 history ere he can bid you call me queen ! My father 
 commands us to wait, and " again her eyes grew bright 
 with laughter " and we have not waited ! " Even Fried- 
 rich smiled. 
 
 " 'Tis mighty fine to jest, ma reine," he said, " but King 
 James will never forgive that we have not waited for his 
 answer." 
 
 " Never is a long word," she answered lightly, " a word 
 which lovers whisper, and angered parents thunder out. 
 And time has a sponge wherewith he washes out the word ! 
 But, sir," she turned to Dohna, " had the despatches 
 anent our acceptance reached England ere you started ? " 
 
 " Yes, madame," said Dohna, " but his Majesty com- 
 plains that three days after you had sent despatches 
 begging for his advice, the crown was accepted without 
 waiting for his answer."
 
 HUMILIATION 153 
 
 " But we had asked him before ! Alack ! who can 
 wait upon the slow wisdom of a greybeard ? " cried the 
 King Elect. 
 
 " There is a proverb which I have had to hear from 
 my father often : ' Wisdom and haste did ne'er go hand 
 in hand,' " said Elizabeth, laughing. " But what does my 
 father advise now ? " she added. 
 
 "That your Majesties should wait until he lays the 
 matter before Parliament. I am commissioned to pray 
 you to wait," said Dohna. 
 
 "We will wait in Prague, sir," she answered proudly. 
 
 In truth, how could Prince Friedrich have waited 
 longer ? Many months ago he had laid a clear statement 
 of the facts before King James, and those events, which 
 had taken place since this document had been drawn up, 
 could but have added to the force of each argument which 
 he had put forward. The Emperor Matthias' death had 
 removed the monarch whom the Bohemians had freely 
 accepted ; Ferdinand of Styria's election as king had been 
 forced upon them, and they had deposed him in due 
 form. That Ferdinand had been elected Emperor, even 
 according to Friedrich's own vote, altered nothing in the 
 invalidity of his claim to the Bohemian throne, for Bo- 
 hemia was a separate and independent kingdom. Thus 
 Friedrich argued, and thus had Dohna argued many times 
 to King James. England was bound to assist her co- 
 religionists in the event of war, bound in honour and by 
 the solemn treaty with the Princes of the Protestant 
 Union ; bound, too, by the ardent anti-popish feeling of 
 the English people. Friedrich had asked for James' 
 advice, but, as his father-in-law hesitated to give any 
 answer, he was under no obligation to wait longer. He 
 was not bound to wait for the English King's permission 
 to accept the Bohemian crown ! This Camerarius set 
 down in his delicate, scholarly handwriting, and Dohna 
 affirmed it all once more to the King Elect, who needed 
 the comfortable cordial of assurance to keep his resolution 
 warm. 
 
 In spite of the disturbing English news the days passed
 
 154 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 right merrily in Ainberg. Dohna was a polished courtier, 
 distinguished for his elegance and knowledge of courts; 
 and if he brought but scanty political tidings out of Eng- 
 land, yet he had much to relate of the doings at White- 
 hall. How the Court was more gross than ever since 
 Anne of Denmark's death ; of how Buckingham ever 
 grew more splendid, and that even if King James's affec- 
 tion for him seemed to wane, yet was Buckingham sure 
 of future power, for Prince Charles lavished on him an 
 enthusiasm of almost brotherly love, Then, too, Dohna 
 had tarried a day in Holland with Maurice of Orange, 
 and he had a dozen histories of the doings at the Hague 
 to recount. Chief among these were the scandalous tales 
 told of Duke Christian of Brunswick, son of Elizabeth, 
 sister to Anne of Denmark, and thus Elizabeth Stuart's 
 close kinsman. 
 
 " What is my cousin Duke Christian's appearance ?" she 
 asked Dohna. Womanlike she wished an accurate de- 
 scription of this " wicked monster," and, manlike, Dohna 
 could but tell her that Duke Christian " looked well 
 enough, a proper man if his ways were like his looks." 
 For some half-year the Duke had been in Holland study- 
 ing the science of war under Maurice of Orange, but it 
 seemed as though the science of love and revelry was more 
 to his taste. 
 
 " They call him the mad Halberstadter among the 
 people, as I hear, madame," said Dohna, " yet his madness 
 is but the madness of very wild youth." 
 
 " Why Halberstadter ? " she asked. 
 
 " He is the lay bishop or administrator of the see of 
 Halberstadt," Dohna told her. 
 
 " A pretty bishop ! " she cried. " Nay, I hope I may 
 ne'er set eyes on this fierce, evil cousin of mine. It is 
 the more shame to him that, being nearly a pastor of 
 God, he should do such fearsome deeds of lust. But tell 
 me more of him, my Lord of Dohna," she added. 
 
 They were dark histories that she heard : tales of mid- 
 night revels, of stormy scenes and nocturnal pranks 
 played on peaceful burghers, and above all, the shattering
 
 HUMILIATION 155 
 
 of marriage bliss, or dulness, by this reckless devil, the 
 mad Halberstadter. Dohna smiled to himself, for it 
 diverted him hugely to see that even the Pearl of Eng- 
 land, the Princess Elizabeth of famed purity, was so eager 
 to hear the stories of a young man's misdeeds. 
 
 " But, sir," she cried at length, " the man is a monster 
 of sin ! " 
 
 " Your majesty, c'est un charmeur de femmes ! " Dohna 
 answered with a smile. 
 
 " I fear me such men are the devil's emissaries," she 
 said, with a sigh. 
 
 There were merry doings at Amberg during those days 
 of their Bohemian Majesties' sojourn : stag hunts in the 
 forests near by, gallants riding through the quiet streets 
 of the city, a stir and a hurry in the market-place, dancing, 
 music, and banqueting in the castle. In after times of 
 bitter trouble the Ambergers looked back to these days as 
 to the most splendid they had ever known. 
 
 On a golden autumn morning the King Elect rode west- 
 ward from Amberg. It was as though the dying year 
 had remembered her spring rhapsody, and, after many 
 days of tears, Dame Nature smiled once more as if 
 in love with the sun. The woods exhaled a glorious 
 fragrancy of earth and moss, and the doomed leaves, 
 clinging still to the branches, rustled for the last time in 
 the gentle breeze. After the desolate days the whole 
 earth seemed to exult in this sudden return of light and 
 happiness, and Friedrich's soul was filled with elation. 
 Life and youth pulsed in his veins, and he felt himself to 
 be a man with a splendid destiny. There was no cloud 
 on the horizon of his mind. This day he rode to Rothen- 
 burg to receive the good wishes of the Princes of the 
 Union, to tell them that he, their brother in Faith, went 
 forth to conquer the accursed oppressor nay, that he 
 had already conquered since he was a king, and to his 
 standard all the Protestant nations were sending warriors. 
 War there would be none ; he was freely elected by a free 
 nation, and the Hapsburger would perforce bow before
 
 156 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the might of so potent a confederation. He pictured 
 Europe as a peaceful Arcady. Gradually the ancient 
 Harlot of Rome would forget her evil wiles and own her- 
 self defeated by the fair purity, the sweet reasonableness, 
 of that scatheless maiden, the New Faith ! Then, too, 
 the Lutherans would voluntarily renounce their errors, 
 and soon Europe would be as a great valley of peace 
 where all men prayed alike, strove alike, loving brethren 
 in Faith. And all this marvel would be accomplished 
 through the divine mission of Friedrich, King of Bohemia, 
 that Friedrich who would one day become Emperor of a 
 holy Evangelical Empire. He saw himself a knightly 
 king kneeling at the feet of his well-beloved lady, he saw 
 himself reverently crowning her Queen, then Empress. 
 He rode on as in a dream. 
 
 Duke Christian of Anhalt and Master Scultetus had 
 not accompanied the King Elect ; Friedrich had intimated 
 that he would speak with the Princes of the Union with- 
 out his usual advisers. He had to do with his peers ; he 
 would answer to them alone. He feared old Anhalt's 
 rude speeches, he did not desire quarrels, and he knew 
 that Scultetus also was held in abhorrence by reason of 
 his intolerance of Lutheranism. Thus Friedrich's retinue 
 was composed of a handful of callow youths. Duke 
 Magnus of Wirtemberg rode among them, and through 
 his reverie Friedrich heard the sound of ever-recurrent 
 laughter, for Duke Magnus was a " merry Andrew," never 
 serious for a moment. 
 
 " Magnus ! " called Friedrich, turning in his saddle, " I 
 pray you exhaust your store of quips to-day, for when we 
 enter Rothenburg I will have no fooling." 
 
 " Jog-a-jog on the footpath way 
 
 And merrily hent the stile-a ; 
 A merry heart goes all the day, 
 Your sad tires in a mile-a," 
 
 sang Duke Magnus. " But I vow me, cousin, I will be as 
 glum as Master Scultetus himself when we come to Rothen- 
 burg! Yet, cousin, the merry monarchs are those the
 
 HUMILIATION 157 
 
 people love. A king with a smile gains hearts, and 
 hearts are useful friends," he said lightly. 
 
 " Nay ! I will be no glum sovereign," said Friedrich 
 joyously ; " life is too full of love to be doleful." 
 
 They cantered on, laughing and talking like happy 
 boys, and indeed what else was Friedrich with his twenty- 
 three summers ? They rode through a smiling country, 
 past many peaceful hamlets where the crooked white- 
 washed walls of the peasants' dwellings were decorated by 
 brown wood-beams criss-cross in haphazard, irregular 
 lines ; then towards Niirnberg, where the broad fields 
 stretched away to wooded hillocks ; and through fragrant 
 forests, where the tall, straight trunks of the slender pine 
 trees formed dim aisles as of some wondrous cathedral of 
 Nature's building. 
 
 Leaving Niirnberg, they travelled on until against the 
 sky-line they sighted the pointed towers of Rothenburg. 
 The dusk fell as they rode up the long, steep incline 
 which leads from the plain to the city. Grim and im- 
 pregnable the town-wall rose in their sight as they came 
 near. At the Roderthurm they drew rein, and, having 
 announced their names and qualities, were admitted 
 through the triple gates to the city. The street lay 
 deserted, save for a dozen grubby children and a few 
 blear-eyed gaffers old age and weak childhood, forsaken 
 and neglected while the more responsible members of 
 the community gaped and stared before the houses, where 
 the magnificent Princes of the Union were lodged. Thus 
 the chief actor in the drama passed unnoticed to the house 
 of Master George Nusch, the new burgomaster, who had 
 prayed the champion of Protestantism to honour his poor 
 dwelling-place. The worthy man received the King 
 Elect with every mark of reverence, kneeled at his stirrup, 
 and kissed the hem of his dusty riding-coat. 
 
 " Nay, master ' " cried Friedrich, raising him, " I would 
 not have you soil your lips with dust." 
 
 " Your majesty, I would willingly drink a river of dust 
 and blood could my draught empty the cup of tribula- 
 tion which hath been held to the lips of those who but
 
 158 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 thirsted for the pure water of the Faith," said Nusch 
 solemnly. 
 
 " Sir Burgomaster," replied Friedrich, with a touch of 
 youthful grandiloquence, " it shall be my mission on earth 
 to give the living stream of salvation, untainted by blood 
 I pray, to my comrades of the Reformed Faith." 
 
 At this moment a billet was handed to Friedrich. He 
 noted that it bore the superscription : " To his Highness 
 the Elector Palatine." It was a brief missive from the 
 Duke of Wirtemberg craving immediate private speech 
 with his friend and kinsman. Friedrich replied cour- 
 teously, that he would speak with his Highness on the 
 morrow, but that this evening, being greatly weary with 
 travel, he prayed the Duke to hold him excused. For 
 Friedrich desired no premature meetings with the Princes 
 of the Union. He awaited his audience with his com- 
 peers on the morrow in the Council Chamber of the 
 Rathaus. 
 
 The morning dawned ominous and clouded. Before 
 nine of the clock the Princes of the Union were seen 
 slowly proceeding to the Rathaus. There were his Grace 
 of Wirtemberg, uncle to Duke Magnus; the Dukes of 
 Baden and Neuburg, his Highness of Ansbach, the Duke 
 of Kulmbach, the Elector of Brandenburg, the Landgraf 
 of Hesse, and the venerable representatives of the free 
 towns of the Empire. The Elector of Saxony was there, 
 and many other nobles of high name. Protestantism 
 Lutheran and Calvinistic was fully represented, a grave 
 and sober company of statesmen and patrician citizens. 
 
 As the church clocks rang out the ninth hour the King 
 Elect of Bohemia took his way from Master Nusch's 
 dwelling in the Schmiedgasse to the Rathaus. A heavy 
 silence brooded over the town, so that the peaceful splash- 
 ing of the street fountain sounded almost noisy. On the 
 market-place before the Rathaus were groups of peasant 
 women, in their large, black ribbon head-dresses, their 
 ample skirts of sombre cloth, gay embroidered aprons, 
 white stockings, and buckled shoes. The men in their 
 long, full-skirted, blue cloth coats, adorned with many
 
 HUMILIATION 159 
 
 rows of silver buttons, with black leather breeches to the 
 knee, white stockings, and, like their womenkind, shoes 
 with broad silver buckles. A number of townsfolk were 
 gathered there too citizens' wives in their little caps 
 of finely gilded fillet-work, in their full skirts of rich 
 cloth, and girdles of silver, wherefrom hung the house- 
 hold keys, and the little leather satchels wherein the 
 Frau Sattlermeister, the Frau Fleischermeister, the Frau 
 Schreinermeister carried their daily household money. 
 
 King Friedrich walked swiftly and alone, his noble 
 retinue following on foot a few paces back. In their 
 wake was led the King's chestnut steed, with arched 
 neck and small proud head, a mighty gelding of a 
 Flemish stock, crossed with an Arab breed. This was 
 " Hurry," the king's favourite horse. A feeble cheer 
 went up as Friedrich passed, and high above the manly 
 voices, came the women's shrill trebles calling : " Hail, 
 King Friedrich ! " He smiled at them, this brown-eyed 
 youth, to whom women always gave a kindliness. King 
 of so little yet, save of women's friendship friendship, 
 not love ; yet debonnair and very bonny he looked 
 in his rich brown coat viol-brown as it was called, a 
 colour much favoured by Elizabeth Stuart. He wore 
 riding boots and gilded spurs, a sword clanked at his 
 side, and on his head was a wide, brown felt hat, with a 
 sweeping feather fastened by a jewelled buckle. Half 
 the time the hat was in his hand as he answered to the 
 plaudits of the crowd, answered with a smile. What 
 had Magnus said ? "A king who can smile wins hearts, 
 and hearts are right useful in the world's warfare." But 
 no ! it could have been no shrewd teaching which in- 
 spired Friedrich's smile that day! He was truly uplifted, 
 proud and glad, sure of his destiny, confident of himself. 
 At that moment, surely a man for a queen to love. 
 " Hail, King Friedrich ! Champion of the Faith ! " He 
 strode up the shallow steps of the Rathaus and beneath 
 the narrow portal, whence the stairway rose like the 
 twisted leaf of some giant stone plant. He paused in 
 surprise, for he was suddenly confronted by the flare of
 
 160 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 torches. The Burgomaster, mindful of the darkness of 
 the autumn morning, had posted torch-bearers on the 
 staircase. King Friedrich stepped forward and, bending, 
 peered up through the narrow well of the stairway. He 
 started, for distinct in the light of the topmost torch, he 
 saw the eagle of Empire emblazoned on the ceiling. By 
 some trick of vision this eagle, although in reality quite 
 small, is made to appear large and overpowering, and it 
 had been the master-builder, Leonhard Weidmann's boast, 
 that by his art he had magnified Empire in the sight of 
 all men. And King Friedrich, seeing this, thought that 
 an omen of his own destiny was revealed to him. Al- 
 ready he deemed that the divine right of kings had 
 given him a clearer vision of the things of the future. 
 Yes, the unknown days held an Empire for him he 
 thought a great reformed Empire. He strode on with 
 head erect and sure tread. 
 
 In the ante-hall a group of young esquires, of burghers' 
 sons, and underling clerks, bowed deeply as he passed. 
 An usher lifted a heavy crimson curtain, and Friedrich, 
 King Elect of Bohemia, stood on the threshold of the 
 Council Chamber. 
 
 It was dark in the lofty hall, for the windows faced 
 due westward, and thus lay in shadow. Only through 
 the one tall, south window came a cold light, which 
 fell straight on the ancient carven stone judgment-chair, 
 whence, during three hundred years, the judges had 
 spoken when death had been a criminal's doom. It was 
 bitter cold in the vast stone hall. On the long, narrow 
 centre-table four waxen candles shed a pale light on the 
 faces of the assembled members of the Union, who sat at 
 the table, while behind them stood a few clerks and 
 notaries. 
 
 The princes rose as Friedrich entered. He bowed to 
 each according to precedency, and they responded cour- 
 teously, if coldly. For a moment Friedrich stood silently 
 at the head of the Council board. His gaze wandered 
 round the gloomy Council Chamber. Everything was 
 indistinct save the judgment-chair at the end of the hall,
 
 HUMILIATION 161 
 
 and, showing wan in the candle-light, the faces of those 
 who sat at the table. There was something funereal and 
 ghastly in the silence and in the bearing of those solemn 
 men. The table, with its covering of sombre cloth, looked 
 like a long, black coffin ; and the flickering light of those 
 four waxen tapers seemed like the candles round a bier. 
 
 Friedrich shivered a little. It was as though the 
 gloom laid a tangible touch on his heart. But his elation 
 was proof against the grim impression, and in an unfal- 
 tering voice he invoked the blessing of God upon the 
 deliberations of the Council. Solemnly the princes re- 
 sponded " Amen ! " and their voices re-echoed hollow in 
 the stone hall. 
 
 Then King Friedrich began the speech which he had 
 rehearsed so often in his mind. 
 
 " My Lords of the Evangelical Union," he said, " I come 
 in person to inform you that after due consideration and 
 earnest prayer I have accepted the crown of Bohemia. Of 
 the undoubted right of the Bohemians to elect their King 
 I need not remind you, for the conditions are as familiar 
 to you as to me. The House of Hapsburg has no heredi- 
 tary rights, for, indeed, the very formula used for several 
 generations in the legal documents : ' King by acceptance 
 of Bohemia,' denotes that, an a nation can accept a king, 
 they are obviously free to reject one who is not to their 
 liking. Further, my Lords, no quibbling legal document, 
 no question of precedent, can stand before the needs 
 of a noble and oppressed country. When cruelty and 
 tyranny have ground a nation to the dust, then is revolt 
 a fair and proper thing. Yet there is a greater need than 
 life, a more urgent call than even sorrow and pain can 
 utter, and that is the salvation of the soul to all eternity. 
 Whosoever wavers before the task of saving his soul at the 
 expense of defying an usurping tyrant, that man is accursed. 
 And the brethren of our Faith in Bohemia must either 
 abjure their religion to embrace the tenets of Antichrist, 
 or they must throw off the yoke of the Romish Haps- 
 burger. This the Bohemians have done bravely and 
 openly, and they have chosen me as their King. My 
 
 L
 
 162 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Lords, I pray you give me your good wishes for the 
 accomplishment of what is my mission here on earth : to 
 rule my new kingdom to the glory of God and the up- 
 rooting of the foul tyrant, the servant of the Scarlet 
 Woman of Rome ! " 
 
 He paused with flushed cheeks and glowing eyes. There 
 was silence in the hall. Friedrich looked from one to the 
 other, but the princes avoided his glance. A little throb 
 of disappointment ran through the buoyancy of his mood. 
 
 " My Lords," he said, and his voice wavered, " I await 
 your answer." 
 
 Now the princes looked at one another, and Friedrich 
 saw how a half smile dawned on the faces of some an 
 indulgent smile like we give to the harmless nonsense 
 spoken by a child. The Duke of Kulmbach bent and 
 whispered to the Elector of Brandenburg, then he turned 
 to Friedrich. 
 
 " We knew that your Highness had listened to the 
 rebels' talk," he said, not unkindly, " but we deemed it im- 
 probable that your advisers would permit you to harbour 
 for an instant so mad a scheme. Believe me, Palsgrave, 
 this is the wild dream of youth." 
 
 " The dream of youth is nobler than the faint-hearted 
 wisdom of old age ! " cried Friedrich hotly. 
 
 " Your dream of youth is treason against your over-lord, 
 sir ! " growled the Elector of Saxony. 
 
 " I have no over-lord save God and my own conscience," 
 retorted the King Elect. 
 
 "This is rebel's talk," interposed the Duke of Wirtemberg. 
 
 " Yes, we are rebels against tyranny ! Yes, we are rebels 
 against an usurper who would take our faith from us ! " 
 cried Friedrich passionately. " My Lords, my Lords, you 
 speak as though all this were news to you. Have 
 you not, each and all, advised with me for the sake of our 
 brethren in Faith ? And now you speak as though this 
 were some wild dream some sudden scheme I do not 
 comprehend. My kinsman of Neuburg, what do these 
 gentlemen mean ? " he finished weakly, appealingly. 
 
 " You have gone too far, my Lord," said Neuburg coldly.
 
 HUMILIATION 163 
 
 " Too far ? How can a man go too far who aims at a 
 goal and wins ? " Friedrich cried, with a return of confi- 
 dence. " I, the Head of this Union, have undertaken a 
 larger task, yet I am still your acknowledged leader, and 
 I command you to join with me in my mission against 
 tyranny and oppression ! For your honours' sake, you 
 cannot desert the standard of Protestantism ! The great 
 ordeal has come ! We have done with polemics, done 
 with intrigue, and in the sight of all men we now raise 
 the banner of God against the hosts of Antichrist. My 
 Lords, there is some misunderstanding between us ! You 
 are my friends, and my father's friends ; we are brethren 
 in Faith. In the name of Christ I conjure you to give 
 me your friendship and the assurance that, an I have need 
 of your aid, you will not hang back." 
 
 A rough laugh greeted this passionate speech. " Our 
 aid to keep you King," jeered the Duke of Saxony. 
 
 " By my troth, by all I love and reverence, that is a 
 lie ! " cried Friedrich wildly. " I go to Bohemia as the 
 chosen of God to guard His Church from harm ! " 
 
 " Chosen of a few rebels ! Take care your Highness is 
 not flung into a dung-heap in Bohemia," said Saxony 
 gruffly. Many laughed. 
 
 " My Lords, you treat me mighty scurvily," Friedrich 
 said, with dignity. " My Lords, have you at least no good 
 words to give me ? " 
 
 " Listen, your Highness," said the Duke of Kulmbach 
 gravely. " We have one good word to give you : Go back 
 home to Heidelberg, and live your life in peace and plenty. 
 Your young enthusiasm is no use in statescraft. Go home, 
 Palsgrave Friedrich, and forget this madness." 
 
 " Never ! " cried Friedrich ; " I am pledged to Bohemia. 
 Would you have me play the coward have me turn back 
 like a white-livered dastard ? " 
 
 " I would have you packed off to bed like a froward 
 urchin, which, upon mine honour, is all you are ! " roared 
 the Duke of Saxony. 
 
 The rough jest pleased the assembly, and a storm 
 of pent-up merriment burst forth ; the princes in loud
 
 164 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 laughter, and the clerks and notaries in that sniggering 
 cachinnation wherewith the obsequious greet the witti- 
 cisms of their superiors. 
 
 Friedrich stood for a moment with blanched lips and 
 haggard face. It was like some sudden darkening of the 
 world before his eyes, as if some one had struck him a 
 blow on the temple which made his senses reel. What 
 had happened ? What had he done ? The reality of 
 life seemed gone ; he was in an evil dream. 
 
 He essayed to speak ; but though his lips formed words, 
 they were drowned by the laughter. With a gesture of 
 despair he turned away and dashed out of the council 
 chamber. 
 
 In the ante-hall he had to shoulder his way through 
 the crowd, which moved hastily aside, while a murmur 
 went up : " The King." Friedrich stumbled down the 
 winding stair like a drunken man. Outside a feeble cheer 
 greeted him : " Hail, Palsgrave ! Hail, King Friedrich ! " 
 Must all the world mock him ? he thought wildly. 
 
 His horse stood at the Rathaus steps, but Duke Magnus 
 and the other gentlemen were at the far side of the market- 
 place laughing and talking with a group of peasant maidens. 
 
 Friedrich muttered something to the esquire who held 
 the horse. 
 
 " Your Majesty's pardon I did not hear ! " began the 
 youth. 
 
 The King pushed him roughly aside, flung himself 
 upon his horse, and, without a word to the astonished 
 esquire, galloped away as though pursued by some dread 
 enemy. And, in truth, he was hunted by the direst foe of 
 youth's enthusiasm : the harsh ridicule of cold experience.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 KING FRIEDRICH'S RIDE 
 
 " Fellow-creature I am ; fellow-servant of God : 
 Can man fathom God's dealings with us ? 
 The wide gulf that parts us may yet be no wider 
 Than that which parts you from some being more blest, 
 And there may be more links 'twixt the horse and his rider 
 Than ever your shallow philosophy guess'd ! " 
 
 A. LINDSAY GORDON. 
 
 THE King galloped wildly onwards down the narrow 
 street to the Roderthor. Faster he would go 
 faster ! He spurred his horse cruelly. The gates 
 stood wide open, and the sentries, leaning lazily against the 
 wall, were laughing and jesting. As the King dashed past 
 them a loud guffaw met his hearing. Probably they laughed 
 at some witless, lewd saying, but to Friedrich it seemed that 
 their ridicule was directed at him. They stared as he 
 galloped by, but, although the Palsgrave was well known 
 to them, they failed to recognise him in the rider with the 
 wide felt-hat pulled down over the brows, and it was only 
 after he had passed on his headlong course that they 
 realised that the fugitive had worn the broad, blue ribbon 
 on his breast, that ribbon of the English Garter which 
 the Palsgrave always bore, some said because, being Eng- 
 land's order, it seemed to him to be another love-token of 
 Elizabeth Stuart. 
 
 The thud of the horse's hoofs sounded as the rumble of 
 distant thunder when Friedrich galloped over the wooden 
 boards of the outer drawbridge. Like a madman he 
 dashed down the dusty Nlirnberg road, which wound like 
 a long, white, sinuous snake between the broad, russet 
 fields of stubble, whence the waving yellow wheat had 
 been reaped. On the horizon stretched the blue-black 
 line of the distant pine-woods.
 
 166 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Under the desolate, slate-coloured sky the solitary rider 
 sped onwards. On on bringing the agony of human 
 thought into the deserted country scene of silent fields 
 and dreaming marsh lands. A peewit rose out of a 
 clump of rushes, a covey of partridges flew with a burr 
 of wings and shrill, tweaking cries from some quiet 
 hiding-place of deep grasses ; but otherwise the stillness 
 was only broken by the thud of the hurrying hoofs of 
 the Flemish gelding, ridden by that despairing, black- 
 cloaked rider. 
 
 There was madness and despair in King Friedrich's 
 heart : it seemed to him that all the joy, all the sanity of 
 life had been taken from him ; as if some awful flood of 
 hopeless misery had surged over him. In his ears the 
 jeering words and laughter in the Rothenburg Rathaus 
 rang on he saw the hostile, mocking faces. His soul 
 was divided by blind, impotent fury and utter bewilder- 
 ment. His rage hurt him turned him physically sick. 
 He galloped on with bent head. Once his horse stumbled ; 
 he wrenched him up roughly, and buried his sharp spurs 
 in the animal's trembling flanks. On on ! he only knew 
 that he must hurry on. 
 
 What had changed ? Why had the Princes turned 
 against him ? They had known of the whole matter from 
 the outset and yet now they had spoken to him as to a 
 foolish, rash boy a trifler an absurd meddler in grave 
 affairs. And he ? He had said nothing to them he had 
 answered their taunts by flight ! Fool that he was ! Fool ! 
 Fool ! ! He struck his brow with his clenched fist ; the 
 blow brought the tears to his eyes, and suddenly he sobbed 
 aloud. Yes, fool that he was ! But what would it have 
 availed had he spoken to those cruel, unjust men ? They 
 knew already had known all the negotiations and they 
 had jeered at him. Was he mad ? Perhaps he had 
 dreamed it all ? Or perhaps Scultetus, Duke Christian, 
 Maurice of Nassau, even the Duke of Bouillon, had con- 
 spired against him, had intrigued to make him the 
 laughing-stock of Germany ? It seemed to him that, like 
 another Ishmael, his hand was against every man and
 
 KING FRIEDRICH'S RIDE 167 
 
 every man's hand was against him. He was baffled 
 spurned by those who should have been his friends. 
 
 Then, like balsam on his wounded spirit, came the 
 thought of Elizabeth. It was as though she laid her hand 
 on his heart, soothing the tempestuous agony. Ah ! she 
 knew she understood she was true to him. He knew 
 now why he rode so wildly : he must get to her ; he must 
 hide his shame and misery, his perplexity, in the refuge 
 of her belief in him, of her tenderness, of her brave sanity. 
 He urged his horse onward. He would go mad if he did 
 not get to her soon ! 
 
 But, perhaps, she too would have joined the conspiracy 
 against him ? He jerked his horse back on its haunches. 
 The cessation of movement, the stillness of the fields, the 
 soft touch of the damp, cool air on his brow calmed his 
 despair for an instant. He glanced back along the winding 
 road. Far off towards Rothenburg he saw a little cloud 
 of dust. He strained his vision. Yes, it must be a rider 
 some one pursuing him ! Perhaps the Princes of the Union 
 had relented had realised how base a thing their mockery 
 had been and had sent a rider to call him back ? But 
 they should wait long those cruel, sneering renegades 
 they should wait long before he would return to them ! 
 They should learn that he was a king, a man with a lofty, 
 serious mission in the world ; they should bitterly repent 
 their insolence ! He was no callow youth to be treated 
 thus. His twenty-three summers had made him, he 
 deemed, sufficiently mature to need no reproval from grave 
 statesmen ! A measure of self-confidence returned to him. 
 He drew himself to his full height in his saddle. Taking 
 off the heavy felt-hat he wiped the sweat from his brow, 
 and moistened his parched lips with his tongue. His horse 
 was breathing in sharp gasps. Would he carry him to 
 Amberg ? It was a mighty journey without a halt, but by 
 the bridle-path through the woods it was shorter than by 
 the main road through Niirnberg. For nothing that man 
 could offer not even for the Imperial crown itself would 
 he ride back to Rothenburg that day. 
 
 How slowly the rider came ! Doubtless he was some
 
 168 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 sluggard greybeard sent by those other greybeards, the 
 Princes of the Union, Friedrich told himself scornfully. 
 
 At length the rider drew near. Friedrich saw that he 
 wore the Palatine livery. So they had sent one of his own 
 men to call him back ? The man galloped up. For an 
 instant the King Elect looked at him in silence. 
 
 " What is your message ? What do the Princes send to 
 me ? " he asked haughtily. 
 
 " I have no message, your Majesty," replied the man 
 breathlessly ; " I saw you ride away, and as my horse was 
 the only one ready saddled I rode after you. Your pardon, 
 your Majesty, but you cannot ride thus alone." 
 
 "You have no message? No one sent you?" 
 said Friedrich slowly. 
 
 " None, sire. Duke Magnus and the other gentlemen 
 went to the Rathaus after you rode away. But I have 
 ridden often with your honoured father and with you : I 
 could not let you ride through the country alone," the 
 man said humbly. 
 
 So the only one to follow him, the only faithful one 
 among them all, was this old retainer, a man to whom in 
 happy days he had half-unconsciously thrown a careless 
 word of courteous greeting ! 
 
 " I thank you, friend," he said quietly. " Will you 
 follow me to Amberg ? I ride on very urgent business." 
 Without another word he spurred his horse forward. 
 Once more the wheel of distraught, agonised thought 
 whirled in his brain ; through it all there was but one 
 clear idea this, that he must reach Amberg Amberg 
 and Elizabeth Stuart. Once or twice his follower called 
 to him : 
 
 " Stay, your Highness, or your horse will fail you ! " 
 For a few moments Friedrich halted ; but then, though 
 the poor beast strove for breath, he galloped on again. 
 On, over field and marshland, thundering through the 
 peaceful hamlets, deserted for the most part by the villagers 
 at work ploughing the fields ; though sometimes groups of 
 children stared, or peasant women, framed in the darkness 
 of narrow doorways, stood and watched the riders pass ; or
 
 KING FRIEDRICH'S RIDE 169 
 
 perhaps a tottering gaffer in a village street would shout 
 hoarsely at them, or mutter through toothless gums, 
 something that may have been a blessing or the peevish 
 malediction of the senile. But hurrying riders were no 
 uncommon disturbers of the hamlets' peace : " Princes 
 and their messengers ride the devil's nags," the saying 
 went among the peasants. 
 
 On through pine woods and beech groves, where the 
 fallen leaves lay deep deadening the sound of the horses' 
 hoofs. Once the horses stopped before a little rill of pure 
 water which trickled across the bridle-path. 
 
 "Let him drink a mouthful, your Highness; for God's 
 sake, breathe him a moment or he will fail you!" the hench- 
 man urged. " Alas ! the King is mad ! " the man muttered 
 to himself, for Friedrich stared at him with wild, unseeing 
 eyes ; yet for a little space he let his horse stand still. Then 
 again he struck his spurs into the poor animal's heaving 
 sides, and the wild race began once more. On on 
 
 They were past Niirnberg now. The bridle track lay 
 across the stubble fields beyond the town walls. As they sped 
 through a village again the henchman called to Friedrich 
 
 " Stay, your Highness, and rest an hour at this wayside 
 inn ! Only an hour, your Highness, I can no more ! " 
 But the King Elect paid no heed ; he galloped on savagely. 
 How could he wait for food and drink ? Wait ! who had 
 said wait ? That was King James's word ! Perhaps if he 
 had waited for the English King's advice the Princes of 
 the Union would not have dared to fail him to insult 
 him thus ? But they had known ! The rhythmic thud of 
 the horses' hoofs wove itself into a refrain in his distraught 
 mind : " They have known they have known " and 
 then again : " My hand against them always now for 
 they have known " Laughter ! who had laughed at 
 him ? who jeered at him ? The illusion was so complete 
 that he checked his horse to listen it was only the 
 henchman calling to him again : 
 
 " I can no more my horse is spent ! Wait, your High- 
 ness ! " The King waved his arm in a gesture of angry 
 dismissal, and urged his failing steed on on
 
 170 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 He was alone now ; the henchman had fallen behind. 
 Alone ! of course he was alone he, Ishmael, the outcast, 
 whose hand was against every man ! 
 
 The light of the autumn day grew dim, but he was not 
 far from Amberg now ; only a few more leagues to ride and 
 he would kneel before Elizabeth Stuart and rest his head 
 upon her breast. He knew each yard of the road now 
 each tiny grassy valley with the brown rocks standing 
 out so quaintly ; each clump of fir-trees was familiar. On, 
 poor horse on only a few more leagues on on 
 
 The mist was sweeping up in long, low, white clouds 
 from the valleys, and the trees were indistinct in the half 
 light. The horse galloped feebly, the thud-thud of his 
 hoofs was irregular, faltering, but the chill of the damp 
 mist against his breast and in his straining, foam-flecked 
 nostrils refreshed him, and he responded gallantly to the 
 cruel urging of his rider's spur, and to the jerks of the bridle 
 against the bit. Then, of a sudden, he stumbled and fell, 
 flinging Friedrich violently forward. The King extricated 
 himself from the stirrups and stood beside the quivering, 
 panting animal. 
 
 " A few more leagues ! Up, you brute, up ! " he called 
 wildly, and wrenched at the bridle. Poor Hurry lay still 
 for a moment, with straining, bloodshot eyes which im- 
 plored dumbly for mercy; then slowly, weakly, he struggled 
 up and stood trembling. The King flung himself into the 
 saddle, and once more the jaded, broken steed galloped on. 
 
 The night fell and a little moaning breeze sprang up. 
 Twice thrice poor Hurry staggered, and the King was 
 forced to let him stand, for his breath came in whistling, 
 laboured gasps, and it seemed as though he must fall; 
 but Friedrich urged him on and the ruthless spurs tore 
 his sides. Bravely, magnificently, fighting the death 
 in his failing limbs, the cracking agony in his heart, the 
 horse sped on, hour after hour ; each mile he went slower, 
 more weakly, but still on on on beneath that urging 
 hand beneath those cruel spurs. Mile after mile they 
 traversed. How long the well-known road seemed in the 
 darkness !
 
 KING FRIEDRICH'S RIDE 171 
 
 They passed through a village ; all was quiet, all slept 
 the curfew had tolled hours since. It was night. At last, 
 below in the valley there shone a few twinkling lights from 
 the Amberg watch-towers. The rider saw them, and a cry of 
 joy burst from his lips With a brave effort the heroic horse 
 galloped onward down the slope and over the plain. 
 
 The Vilsthor was shut, but King Friedrich's cry brought 
 a sleepy gatekeeper to peer through the slit-window in the 
 heavy gate. Slowly the great bolts and ponderous bars 
 were withdrawn and the door creakingly swung open. 
 Again the spurs rent the horse's flanks, and he struggled 
 forward through the cobble-stoned street to the Castle 
 moat; but here on the bridge he failed, staggered, 
 stumbled, plunged forward, stumbled again and fell prone. 
 That last gallop had rent his heart in twain so near the 
 haven of rest. Alas ! that gallop had killed him. Feebly 
 the slim, graceful limbs twitched ; for the last time those 
 brave, faithful eyes, fast glazing now, yearned up in an 
 agony of supplication, praying for forgiveness to the rider 
 who had ridden him to death. The King stood gazing 
 on the one friend who, on a day of failure, had not failed 
 him ; on a day of lonely pain, had not deserted him ; the 
 one friend who had given his life to serve him. 
 
 The castle lay shrouded in darkness and silence. Twice 
 a sentry challenged the King as he strode up. 
 
 " Halt, or I fire ! " the man-at-arms shouted as Fried- 
 rich gave no answer. 
 
 " Fool ! I am the Palsgrave ! " Friedrich cried angrily. 
 The man fell back. " Open ! Open ! God's life ! am I 
 to be shut out of mine own castle ? " the King cried, and 
 beat against the door furiously. From the river a white 
 mist had risen, and wrapped the world in a chill em- 
 brace. The King listened. There was silence over city 
 and castle. 
 
 " Is it so late ? " he called to the sentry. 
 
 "Nigh upon midnight, your Highness," the man 
 answered. Ah, yes ! he had travelled slowly since night- 
 fall the horse, poor brute, had been so slow so slow. 
 Poor Hurry what a hideous dream it was
 
 172 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Open ! open ! It is I, the Palsgrave ! " he called again, 
 and smote the panels with his clenched fists. Somewhere 
 in the castle a door banged, and a footfall echoed through 
 the quiet house. At last the heavy door was opened 
 narrowly, and a serving-man's face peered through the 
 crack. 
 
 " Open ! It is I, the Palsgrave ! " Friedrich cried again. 
 The flickering light from a lantern fell on the King's face, 
 then an exclamation of surprise came from the serving- 
 man, and the door was flung wide. 
 
 " Your Highness ! Where is your Highness's horse ? 
 Shall I lead him to the stable ? " the astonished man 
 stammered. 
 
 " On the bridge dead ! Oh God ! " the King answered, 
 and a sob burst from his lips. 
 
 " Friedrich ! what has happened ? " Elizabeth Stuart 
 stood on the stairs. She stood there in her trailing bed- 
 gown, her luxuriant, brown hair spread like a cloak over 
 her shoulders. Her eyes were brilliant with sleep, and a 
 rosy flush was on her cheek, like the glow on the face of 
 an awakened child. 
 
 " Friedrich, my Lord ! what have they done to thee ? " 
 she said wonderingly. He pushed past her almost roughly. 
 
 " Come ! not here ! I cannot tell you here ! All the 
 world listens, all the world mocks me ! " he half sobbed. 
 She followed him into her sleeping-room. Here a single 
 taper burned, and through the uncurtained casement the 
 murky night seemed like a sombre, inexorable eye gazing 
 into the room. Elizabeth had thrown back the curtain 
 when, startled from sleep, she had endeavoured to see 
 what brought that clamour beneath her windows. 
 
 Friedrich fell on his knees beside her chair, and hoarse 
 sobs shook him as an ague fit. 
 
 " Who has dared to do this to thee ? " she cried. " Fried- 
 rich, my poor, tired love ! I will fetch wine ! " She passed 
 into the supper-parlour. In a small wall-press she found a 
 flask of sack. With trembling hands she poured a deep 
 draught into a silver goblet, and brought it to the King. 
 Very tenderly she lifted his head, and soothingly, as we
 
 KING FRIEDRICH'S RIDE 173 
 
 speak to a tired child, she bade him drink and rest. At 
 first he could not swallow the wine, for his sobs rent him, 
 and his throat seemed closed by some cruel, strangling 
 hand. She held the goblet to his lips. 
 
 " Drink, my dear one ; you see you are safe with me. 
 Friedrich, my love ! Poor wounded heart of mine ! " she 
 said again and again. At length he grew calmer, and 
 slowly, like a sick man, he drank. Then she sat down 
 and drew him to her. For a while he lay there as one 
 stunned ; and then, in halting broken words, he told her 
 the piteous story of his humiliation, of his defeat, of his 
 furious ride, and of how poor Hurry had fallen dead on 
 the castle bridge. 
 
 She held him quietly in her strong arms, and gradu- 
 ally, like the calming of a tempestuous sea, the waves 
 of madness and despair in his soul sank to stillness. The 
 hammering questions in his brain ceased, and he rested 
 almost slept. But Elizabeth, wide-eyed and tortured, 
 gazed out into the darkness through the uncurtained 
 casement. She marvelled dumbly that such weakness 
 could be, and yet she was too strong, too unself-conscious, 
 to despise Friedrich. She only yearned to help and com- 
 fort him, to hide his weakness in her strength. Courage ! 
 courage ! what was the use of despair ? she asked herself 
 silently. 
 
 Yet she could not forgive him for having ridden his 
 horse to death. Through her pity for Friedrich there 
 pulsed now a little throb of scorn which his weakness 
 had not called forth ; but this was a meanness, a crime 
 against a faithful, willing friend. She pictured poor 
 Hurry striving to content his rider, on on, over those 
 long, weary miles ; she saw the poor beast's patient, 
 straining eyes, clouded with death now : death in the 
 service of a careless, thoughtless rider ! A hot flush of 
 anger rose to her cheek; her brother could not, no 
 Englishman could, have done such a thing, she thought. 
 She realised the eternal barrier of nationality between her 
 and Friedrich. Resolutely she turned her thoughts away 
 that was a subject it was disloyal to consider ; this man was
 
 174 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 her man weak perchance, faulty but her man for all 
 that. Over the bowed brown head which leaned on her 
 breast she smiled, ruefully a trifle, but bravely, humorously 
 remembering her brother's saying of her that : " The mare 
 was the better horse of the Palatine pair." 
 
 Complete stillness reigned in the castle of Ainberg. 
 Elizabeth moved her arm from beneath Friedrich's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "Oh! ma mie,let me rest another moment," he murmured 
 plaintively, and then once more he recounted of his failure, 
 of the cruel insult he had suffered ; called himself a fool, 
 bitterly reproached himself. And Elizabeth, with all the 
 generous inconsistency of a loyal woman, spoke to him of 
 how brave he was. She praised him, laughed gently at 
 his doubts and fears, assured him of her trust hi him and 
 of her belief in his future, because she felt that in her 
 confidence in him lay his only chance of courage ; because, 
 too, confidence was the expression of her loyalty. 
 
 The grey dawn saw Friedrich sleeping peacefully, saw 
 too, how Elizabeth Stuart's eyes were wide with sleepless 
 sadness, for this was the first time she had realised to the 
 full how weak a thing was Friedrich, King of Bohemia.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 PRAGUE 
 " Quern Deus perdere vult dementat prius." 
 
 AN autumn haze lay over the White Mountain, and a 
 /\ heavy dew sparkled on the scant grass which 
 4- -^ clothed the long, bare slope. A train of splendid 
 travellers wound its slow way along the road which leads 
 out of far-off Germany to Prague. First clattered a regi- 
 ment of mounted arquebusiers, whose accoutrements 
 glittered bravely in the morning sun. Behind them came 
 a gallant cortege of nobles, and following these were five 
 gilded coaches. Then came a detachment of men-at-arms 
 and a long file of baggage waggons and sumptermen with 
 laden horses. This day Friedrich, King of Bohemia, and 
 Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, with their suite, journeyed 
 from the Castle of Bustehrad, where they had spent the 
 preceding night, to their town of Prague. 
 
 Autumn had decked Bohemia to greet her new 
 sovereign : the bare hills, so unutterably dreary under a 
 leaden sky, smiled to-day beneath the haze smiled and 
 glistened in the morning dew. 
 
 Beside her Majesty's coach rode my young Lord Bernard 
 of Thurn, son of the statesman. The elder Thurn was a 
 polished courtier, a man who knew both Court and camp ; 
 but, though he played the patriot, he was, in truth, more 
 Austrian than Bohemian ; whereas his son, brought up at 
 Prague, was a true Czech, with all the Czech's fiery love 
 of his country. 
 
 Bernard Thurn rode beside Elizabeth Stuart's carosse 
 and told her, hi glowing words, a dozen histories of old 
 Bohemian days. 
 
 " See, madame ! " he cried, " by this road, here to the 
 right, we should reach Karlstein. Ah ! how noble a 
 
 175
 
 176 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 fortress ! Never in all history has an enemy captured 
 this stronghold. I would I could hide you there, madame, 
 if ever the enemy threatened. For a year and a day I 
 would hold it for you ! For a year ? Nay ! for ever, if 
 need be ! " The Queen laughed. 
 
 " For a year and a day, as in some fairy story," she 
 said. 
 
 "Madame, Karlstein is like some fabled castle of 
 old ! " he cried enthusiastically. He told her how the 
 Emperor Charles IV. had built it deep in the hill-land, 
 so hidden away that no invading army could ever find it ; 
 how the magnificent stronghold was guarded by difficult 
 passes ; how it stood high on a crag and was built up 
 around the soaring rock peak, which was thrust forth grimly 
 in the masonry even at the level of the highest windows ; 
 and that, above all, over the gigantic rock, high in the clouds, 
 secluded even above the abode of kings, grandly isolated 
 from all, was the sacred chapel where the Bohemian crown 
 was kept. He told her how the Emperor Sigismund, the 
 accursed one, who had doomed Master John Hus to a fiery 
 death, had stolen many of the precious stones, had torn 
 away whole sheets of silver and gold, and caused them to 
 be melted down to make coin to pay for his shameful 
 splendour. Bernard Thurn spoke with poetic fervour, and 
 Elizabeth Stuart sat in her gilded carosse and listened with 
 shining eyes and parted lips, as a child listens to a fairy 
 tale. He told her how no man might enter the sanctuary 
 of the Kreuz Kapelle, no man save God's high priests 
 and the Bohemian King; but yet how sometimes his 
 father, Burggrave of Karlstein, had let him peep into the 
 outer chapel, a wondrous place, like unto a chapter of 
 the Revelation of St. John. For the walls were encrusted 
 with precious stones, the roof was wrought in pure gold, 
 and the windows were made of strange glittering crystals, 
 through which the dim light fell in a thousand prismatic 
 hues athwart the floor of jasper, jade, and porphyry. On 
 the walls between the flashing setting of topaz, of amethyst, 
 and of pale iridescent opals, chrysolites, and blood-red gar- 
 nets, there were set mosaics representing Bohemia's saints,
 
 PRAGUE 177 
 
 whose halos, and the jewels of whose vestments, were of 
 gold and priceless gems. 
 
 " Does all this marvel still remain ? " Elizabeth asked 
 wonderingly. 
 
 " Aye, sweet madame, and, as long as Karlstein stands, 
 the Bohemian race will not forget their ancient glory and 
 their bitter wrongs," said young Thurn. 
 
 The sun was high in the heavens when the King's 
 cortege drew near to the Star Palace on the White 
 Mountain, that quaint Renaissance pavilion which the 
 Archduke Ferdinand of Austria had caused to be built 
 for the Lady Philippine Welser, the patrician maiden of 
 Augsburg, whom he had raised to royal rank by wedding 
 her in the face of the Emperor's bitter hostility. A strange 
 pavilion, this Star Palace, for even a hunting-lodge in those 
 days was perforce fortified, and the Palace, built in six 
 massive-pointed sections to portray a star in stone, was 
 surrounded by a ponderous loopholed Avail ; and it was 
 believed that the Star Palace was an impregnable, if 
 miniature, fortress. 
 
 That day the heavy gates stood wide open ; Bohemia's 
 flag flew bravely above the Palace ; rich tapestries were 
 hung from out the windows, and a crowd of gorgeously 
 clad nobles stood before the door eager to greet their 
 Sovereign Lord and his gracious Lady. 
 
 All the actors in the Bohemian drama were there : my 
 Lords of Thurn, of Hohenlohe, of Michaelowitz, Count 
 Ernest Mansfeld, Duke Christian of Anhalt and his son 
 Prince Christel, Duke Magnus of Wirtemberg, Duke 
 William of Weimar ; the Bohemian Lords William of 
 Lobkowitz, Ruppa, Czernin, Kinsky ; the aged Schlick, 
 and many other Czechish gentlemen. Right glad was this 
 meeting between Friedrich of the Palatinate and the men 
 who had made him King. The autumn sun shone on a 
 gay scene enough, and surely it was of happy augury that 
 the new King and Queen should make their entry into 
 Prague on this smiling autumn day ? 
 
 In the Star Palace a banquet had been spread, and soon 
 the pavilion rang with laughter and young voices. 
 
 M
 
 178 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 After the banquet the English ladies wandered with the 
 Bohemian gallants through the quaint chambers formed 
 by the six points of the star. Tapestries were hung on 
 the walls beneath those delicate Renaissance mouldings of 
 the frieze, which have made the Star Palace famous as a 
 very treasury of perfect design. In each room logs flamed 
 in the wide, open fireplaces ; and the ladies vowed that 
 Bohemia was a friendly land. 
 
 " We have only seen sunshine and kindly looks since 
 we came to your country, my lords," said Elizabeth 
 Stuart to the nobles who stood around her. " And this 
 is the goodliest hunting-lodge I have ever seen ! I shall 
 often journey hither, and I pray you all to grace my first 
 feast in the Star ! " 
 
 " A Star Palace is a fitting resting-place for the fairest 
 star of womanhood ! " murmured young Bernard Thurn ; 
 and Ritter Christel cast him a half-melancholy, half- 
 humorous look, for he saw that the youth had already 
 learned to worship at that shrine where so many wor- 
 shipped, and were rewarded by a smile. 
 
 The Bohemians were hugely diverted by her Majesty's 
 monkey, and when she told them, in her light way, that 
 he was her eldest son, they laughed long. Little Prince 
 Hal, leaning against his mother's knee, cried out that he 
 was her eldest son. 
 
 " Mother, I am Prince of Bohemia ! " he whimpered 
 angrily. 
 
 "Nay, sweeting, Jacky is my heir!" returned Eliza- 
 beth, laughing. A chill fell on the laughing group. The 
 Bohemians found this a sorry jest. Did their new Queen 
 mock them ? Did she mean that a monkey was good 
 enough to be Bohemia's King ? The unfortunate are easily 
 wounded by a light word, and the Bohemians, ever an un- 
 lucky race, are morbidly sensitive and quickly suspicious. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart saw the changed look on the courtiers' 
 faces. With a sudden sense of helplessness she realised 
 that a foreign language is a dangerous vehicle for jest. 
 She had spoken in French, and the Bohemians for the 
 most part knew the language but indifferently. She
 
 PRAGUE 179 
 
 glanced at the King. He was standing in the embra- 
 sure of one of the windows with Hohenlohe, old Thurn, 
 and Master Scultetus. Affairs of State at the wrong 
 moment, of course, she thought impatiently ! She rose. 
 
 " We must hurry onwards now," she cried. " I would 
 fain tarry at this happy place, but I am all impatient to 
 behold my new abode in Prague." 
 
 The bevy of English damsels gathered round her, the 
 coaches were summoned, and amid laughter and gaiety the 
 cortege resumed its way over the White Mountain. 
 
 When the travellers came to the brow of the hill, Prague 
 lay like a dream-city in the haze of the autumn midday. 
 The sun touched to splendour the myriad turrets, towers, 
 cupolas, and spires of the Hradcany Palace, and the broad 
 majestic Moldau, sweeping grandly onwards between the 
 " Old City " and the " Small Town," seemed to be an inlet 
 from the blue sky. Along the road beyond the city walls 
 a dense crowd of peasants stood and welcomed the splendid 
 cavalcade with outbursts of passionate joy. King Fried- 
 rich on a sorel charger rode alone, isolated from the 
 other riders so that all should see him. He wore a 
 sumptuous tunic of "viol-brown" velvet embroidered 
 with silver, his slashed hose were of brown, his hat and 
 feather were brown, his ruff was of fair white linen, and 
 on his breast there flashed the jewelled collar of St. George 
 of England ; a right kingly figure, this debonnair prince, 
 this brave young champion of an oppressed people ; and 
 the dark-browed Czechs, with the short dog-like faces and 
 pathetic dog-like yearning eyes, gave him rapturous greet- 
 ing as he rode to their well-beloved Prague. 
 
 With a clang, as though the whole world had been set 
 ringing, the bells of the city chimed out from every 
 church and chapel. At the Strahow Gate the royal 
 cortege halted, King Friedrich dismounted, and her 
 Majesty, too, descended from her coach. The whole 
 Court formed a circle behind the King and Queen, while 
 the burgomaster and the chief city authorities did homage 
 to their new ruler. 
 
 Now through the gates there appeared a curious com-
 
 180 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 pany of riders : men in ancient breastpieces and battered 
 helmets, with targets, scythes and sickles, hayforks and 
 ploughshares, and rude two-handed swords,notched,broken, 
 and rusty with age. These grotesque riders halted before 
 the King and struck their weapons against their targets. 
 For a moment Elizabeth Stuart remained grave and digni- 
 fied, then her lips trembled and she turned her head away to 
 hide her amusement at these uncouth welcomers. Unfor- 
 tunately her eyes met the laughing gaze of Duke Magnus. 
 
 At this moment the riders burst forth in a hoarse cry: 
 " Vivat Rex Ferdinandus ! " 
 
 Friedrich's face grew dark. What meant the loons? 
 Was it in mockery that they greeted him by the name of 
 his enemy ? Schlick spoke to Thurn, who in a hurried 
 whisper, explained that this was a mistake, and that in 
 their excitement the peasant band had shouted the wrong 
 name. A Bohemian gentleman went forward and spoke 
 with the leader of the troop, and now they thundered : 
 " Yivat ! Vivat Fredericus Rex ! " 
 
 But this had been too much for the Queen's com- 
 posure, and she and her whole Court laughed in a tempest 
 of hilarity. Even Friedrich was infected by the merri- 
 ment, and, though he strove to hide his amusement, after an 
 instant he too gave in and joined in the untimely mirth. 
 
 For a space the peasant warriors waited. They were 
 the descendants of those who had fought under Ziska in 
 the Hussite wars, and their curious accoutrements were 
 the weapons which their forbears had wielded to revenge 
 Bohemia's patriot, Master John Hus. These strange, bat- 
 tered weapons were their most cherished possessions, sacred 
 emblems to them of Bohemia's freedom, beautiful in their 
 eyes because they had been beautiful to the reverent gaze 
 of many generations. And on this day they had come 
 forth bearing these sacred relics of their country's history 
 as symbols of their ardour in their new King's service. 
 They did not know that they appeared queer and ridicu- 
 lous, alas ! when do we ever know how absurd the ex- 
 pression of our feelings seems to the cold scrutiny of the 
 world ?
 
 PRAGUE 181 
 
 They stood dumbfounded before the laughing Court, 
 these Czech peasants in their ludicrous armour. Not 
 they alone were wounded by the thoughtless mirth, the 
 Bohemian nobles also were aghast at such ill-mannered 
 levity. Young Thurn came to the King. 
 
 " Sire," he said bitterly, " perchance you do not know 
 the meaning of those weapons, broken in Bohemia's ser- 
 vice, but I pray you speak with these men. They wish 
 you well, and would die for you." The King measured 
 him with a haughty look. Like most Germans, Friedrich 
 was very jealous of his dignity. 
 
 " I am not accustomed to receive commands, sir," he 
 said stiffly ; yet he stepped forward and would have given 
 greeting to the peasant troop, but with dark looks the 
 men turned away, and with a jangle of steel and iron 
 they galloped through the Strahow gate. 
 
 " Unmannerly clowns ! " cried the King angrily. " I 
 have to thank you, my young Count Thurn, for this 
 affront," he added. 
 
 Once more the cortege moved on. In the broad street 
 which led from the Strahow gate to the palace, the 
 populace stood so densely packed that the King's pro- 
 gress was of necessity slow ; but his Majesty appeared to 
 have forgotten his displeasure, and it was a very smiling, 
 gracious youth whom the people of Prague greeted as 
 their King on that bright autumn morning of 1619. 
 
 A courtly company wandered through the suite of 
 rooms which the Emperor Rudolf had built above the 
 state chambers of the Hradcdny, to store his collection 
 of pictures, statues, and carven ivories. Her new Majesty 
 of Bohemia, with a true Stuart's love of art, rejoiced 
 in finding such masterpieces in her new abode, and 
 she vowed they consoled her for a multitude of small 
 discomforts. 
 
 " Ah ! " she cried, " see this carven ivory, and this fair 
 woman's face of far-off times ! A Greek idolatrous image 
 you say, Master Scultetus ? Alack ! but beauty may be 
 an earthly and vain thing and a snare for the soul, as
 
 182 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 you tell me, Hochwiirden, but I am consoled thereby for 
 the ugliness of the brown Moldau water wherein I laved 
 my hands this day ! " She laughed and passed on with 
 her ladies. Scultetus shook his head ; her Majesty was 
 too full of laughter, too light of word. The worthy 
 preacher gave the Queen no credit for her undaunted 
 cheerfulness through many a weary day. He loved the 
 sour faces and the whining tones of narrow piety. 
 
 Merrily Elizabeth Stuart and her Court paced through 
 the rooms. It was the day after their Majesties' entrance 
 into Prague, and the Queen was like some happy child 
 exploring the rambling precincts of the Hradcdny Palace ; 
 yet she shuddered when she was shown the council 
 chamber window wherefrom the Imperial Councillors had 
 been flung. 
 
 In the midst of her wanderings, a lackey came and 
 announced that a deputation of burghers' ladies craved 
 audience, and her Majesty immediately hurried to re- 
 ceive them. Count Schomberg, following in the Queen's 
 wake, sighed at the lack of etiquette in Bohemia. There 
 seemed to be no thought of careful, programmatic arrange- 
 ment; and he sighed again when he remembered the 
 absurd occurrences of the preceding day. A Court un- 
 controlled by a definite programme is like a troop ot 
 comedians without a scene- master ; the clown and the 
 harlequin play the first r61es, and no one knows if the 
 stage king may not suddenly don the clown's cap, he 
 thought angrily. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart stood waiting to receive the Bohemian 
 matrons. Amalia Solms and the English ladies-in-waiting 
 were grouped behind her. Master Scultetus and Schom- 
 berg stood together, nervously awaiting the appearance 
 of the deputation, and Schomberg cursed the lack of 
 foresight which had caused the Queen of a foreign- 
 speaking race to be thus unprepared for the reception of 
 her new subjects. He prayed that some of the Bohemian 
 matrons would know a few words of French or German. 
 Ah ! why had he not insisted on some one who was 
 master or mistress of the Czech tongue being in per-
 
 PRAGUE 183 
 
 manent attendance on the Queen ? It was a ridiculous 
 and awkward predicament a fit subject for a comedy ; 
 ruefully he considered that comedies may be diverting 
 to the audience, but that to the players themselves they 
 are often unpleasant. 
 
 The doors of the Queen's audience chamber were 
 thrown open, and there entered some dozen portly 
 matrons, dark-browed and sallow, with short, broad faces 
 and melancholy eyes. They were clad hi very full cloth 
 skirts and stiff, pointed bodices adorned with numerous 
 gold and silver chains ; their head-dresses were towering 
 edifices of plaited ribbon held down to the oiled, dark 
 hair by heavy round metal ornaments of barbaric design. 
 These matrons, looking portentously solemn, each bore a 
 loaf of bread so vast that they were forced to encircle it 
 with both arms; at their girdles were hung large salt- 
 bags. They stood in silence before the Queen. Elizabeth 
 stepped forward. 
 
 " I give you good greeting, mesdames," she said ; " if 
 it is your kind wish to bring me the delicious bakery of 
 your ovens, I thank you." She looked round helplessly. 
 Schomberg's face was blank with astonishment, and even 
 Master Scultetus's gaunt cheeks were brick coloured, and 
 his lips twitched with laughter. Her Majesty's eyes met 
 the derisive glance of my Lady Phyllis Devereux. 
 
 " For the dear Lord's sake, sweet friend, do not laugh," 
 whispered her Majesty. " Schomberg, what am I to say 
 to these strange visitors ? " A ripple of merriment broke 
 the silence. 
 
 " Mesdames, I thank you," began Elizabeth once 
 more ; and then, alas ! her gravity departed, and she 
 laughed aloud. 
 
 One of the Bohemian matrons came forward and 
 spoke some swift, indistinct Czechish words ; but laughter 
 had usurped the place of prudence, of dignity, and of 
 kindliness, and would not be stilled. 
 
 The ladies of Prague turned away, and, with bowed 
 heads, filed out of the audience chamber. The offering 
 of loaves and salt was an ancient Bohemian custom. It
 
 184 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 was symbolic not only of their homage, but of their 
 goodwill, of their ardour to serve and to give of their 
 wealth to their liege lords. This usage was so universal 
 among Slav races that the Prague matrons could not 
 believe that any one could misunderstand the significance 
 of the homely ceremony. 
 
 The four days between King Friedrich's arrival in 
 Prague and his coronation were taken up by long 
 and anxious consultations between the King, Scultetus, 
 Camerarius, the chief Bohemian nobles, and the Adminis- 
 trator or Lutheran Archbishop, as to the rites to be 
 used for crowning this Calvinistic King. It was unani- 
 mously agreed that no ritual of the Roman Church could 
 find a place in this ceremony; but it was distinctly 
 difficult to anoint a king, to present him with the sacred 
 symbols of his office, to go through a grand religious 
 ceremonial, if all the ancient customs were to be con- 
 demned as idolatrous. Like so much in the history of 
 King Friedrich, it was not only an awkward dilemma, 
 but there was a ridiculous vein, an inconsistency in the 
 whole matter. He must be crowned for reasons of State 
 and public sentiment ; his coronation must be a grand 
 and impressive rite, symbolic of the majesty, of the power, 
 and of the holy office of kings and his Calvinistic creed 
 forbade ritual and condemned symbols ! If nothing was 
 to be taken from the ordained Romish coronation form, 
 what could they devise to fill the place thus vacant ? 
 
 Then Scultetus and the Lutheran Administrator em- 
 barked on a flood of polemic, and disagreeing, of course, 
 they returned from their theological voyage, bringing 
 personal animosity to add to the tangle. It was most 
 unpleasant, a little absurd, and time pressed, for the 
 coronation was fixed for November 4th, and take place it 
 must, in one form or another. They asked anxiously what 
 form had been used in the crowning of other Protestant 
 kings ? Queen Elizabeth of England had been crowned 
 and anointed according to the ancient ritual, though she 
 had caused gospel and epistle to be read in English.
 
 PRAGUE 185 
 
 James I. and Queen Anne had been crowned together, 
 but there was no time for the Bohemian Council to ascer- 
 tain the exact form used. Also Scultetus claimed that 
 the tenets of the English Church were a mixture of 
 Lutheran and Popish doctrine ; King Friedrich was Cal- 
 vinistic and should be crowned according to his cult. At 
 length the disputants were silenced by Time, who pressed, 
 and by the decision of the Bohemian nobles, who averred 
 that as the coronation was that of a Bohemian king, it 
 should be done according to the will of the Bohemian 
 Lutheran Administrator. 
 
 So on the 4th day of November 1619, in the ancient 
 Church of St. Vitus, Friedrich, Prince Palatine, was 
 anointed and crowned King, with a Lutheran ritual. 
 The Czechish language was used instead of Latin ; the 
 monarch himself understanding no word thereof, re- 
 cited the responses in the national tongue, having learned 
 to gabble them by heart. Scultetus, allowed no part in 
 the proceedings, stood dark-browed and sombre, watch- 
 ing his pupil receive crown, orb and sceptre, ring and 
 sword. And Scultetus vowed in his heart that the pure 
 Faith of Calvin should be avenged for this outrage. 
 
 It was a time of banqueting and much splendour in 
 Prague. The cannon thundered royal salutes ; gold and 
 silver were scattered, by the King's command, among the 
 populace; the fountains ran with good red wine; the 
 citizens feasted and rejoiced ; the councillors voted large 
 sums for the royal maintenance ; and medals were struck 
 to commemorate the coronation. 
 
 Meanwhile, on the southern Bohemian frontier, guard- 
 ing the passes from Lower Austria, there was encamped 
 a horde of starving, unpaid men, who often stole away 
 to the villages to sell their weapons, generally for mean 
 prices, yet sufficient to buy a little food. This was the 
 army of Friedrich, King of Bohemia, just now so grandly 
 crowned; of Friedrich, who scattered gold and silver 
 among the populace of Prague ! 
 
 Her Majesty Elizabeth, too, a few days later, was 
 crowned with much pomp, and again there was universal
 
 186 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 rejoicing 1 , more banqueting, more feasting for the citizens, 
 more wine flowing from the fountains, and enormous 
 quantities of bread and meat distributed among the 
 poor. 
 
 There came no thought of disaster to the new Court ; 
 all was splendour and rejoicing. What mattered it that 
 King James of England wrote angry censure of the 
 crown's acceptance ? That from Vienna came the menace 
 of the Empire's ban being laid upon Friedrich ? That 
 Maximilian of Bavaria wrote solemn warning ? That the 
 Elector of Saxony openly threw in his lot with the 
 Imperial party ? Friedrich was an anointed King and 
 Elizabeth Stuart a crowned Queen : the dream of years 
 had become a reality. Friedrich was but three-and- 
 twenty, and success is an intoxicating draught to the 
 young. 
 
 Towards the end of November her Majesty gave birth 
 to a son, and again Prague rejoiced; and the kindly 
 Bohemian matrons appeared once more, and this time 
 they brought a far different gift instead of those mis- 
 understood loaves ! They offered Elizabeth Stuart an 
 ebony cradle inlaid with ivory, and a kist filled with fine 
 linen for the baby prince. 
 
 Prosperity, peace, and content reigned over Bohemia, 
 but there was a sombre figure moving through the groups 
 of gay courtiers at the Hradcany palace, a man full of 
 hatred, discontent, and anger ; this was Master Scultetus 
 the Calvinist. Elizabeth Stuart noted a cloud on the 
 King's brow. She questioned him, but he gave evasive 
 answers, and, in her happiness, she paid scant heed to his 
 troubled look. Friedrich was a man of moods, and she 
 was well used to his changes of mien. 
 
 One chill December morning Master Scultetus and a 
 crowd of black-cloaked men, followed by a gang of work- 
 men, entered the ancient Church of St. Vitus, which 
 adjoins the Hradcany Palace. The church lay in gloom, 
 no light glimmered before the high altar, no lamps shed 
 their radiance before the shrines of St. Vitus and of St.
 
 PRAGUE 187 
 
 John Nepoinuk. For three hundred years these lights 
 had burned before the relics of those holy martyrs ; for 
 three hundred years the Czechish people had prayed God 
 to hear their petitions through the intercession of these 
 His chosen ones. Even when the Bohemians had broken 
 away from their ancient cult, in pious memory they had 
 still venerated these shrines, and Lutheran and Papist 
 alike had seen in the honouring of Bohemia's great dead 
 a sacred national custom. A few days before the new 
 King, the hero who was to deliver Bohemia, came to 
 Prague, the Cathedral of St. Vitus had been taken from 
 the priests, and since then the church had been deserted ; 
 the flowers had withered upon the altars, and in the un- 
 tended lamps the little flames had flickered and sunk to 
 death. There were many among the populace who had 
 bitterly resented this harsh dealing. Had not Friedrich 
 promised religious freedom to Bohemia ? Not alone the 
 Papists were moved to anger ; the Lutherans, too, resented 
 this act of Calvinistic tyranny. It was a dangerous thing 
 to affront the revered " Domherren," the priests of the 
 Church of St. Vitus ; and though each priest was paid a 
 few thalers a week, this scanty pension could not appease 
 their anger nor assuage their horror at the injustice of 
 Freedom's champion dispossessing them of their church. 
 Quietly the well-known " Domherren " glided through the 
 streets of Prague, whispering their bitterness into the ears 
 of Lutheran and Catholic alike. These priests had been 
 in the crowd which had stood round the doors of the 
 Vitus Church during the coronation ; and though the 
 feasting populace, in the excitement of the rejoicings, had 
 scarce noticed the whispers, some of the poison had 
 slipped into their thoughts, and afterwards, when the 
 merrymaking was past, they had remembered the priests' 
 words, and a pulse of sullen resentment, a quaver of 
 suspicion, had lived in the people's hearts against their 
 Calvinistic ruler. 
 
 Master Scultetus and his followers stood gazing into 
 the dark church. High over the rood-screen the stone 
 crucifix seemed an appeal so potent that it was almost a
 
 188 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 menace, and on the many altars in the aisles the carven 
 figures of the saints loomed like quiet watchers. All 
 around, a majestic company of silent witnesses to their 
 country's vanished greatness, lay Bohemia's mighty dead 
 keeping watch they, too, in the desolate church : Emperors 
 and Kings and Dukes of Bohemia, their names recording 
 dynasties long dead ; and beside them lay the proud 
 nobles of the land : Lobkowitz and Duba, Wlaschin and 
 Rozmital, Pardubitz and Wratislaw von Pernstein, knights 
 and princes of the church. Verily, it was a sumptuous 
 court gathered round the King of Pain and Humility upon 
 the cross. 
 
 The deserted church was a sanctuary of stillness and 
 of memory, and even Scultetus paused on the threshold. 
 Then, with a fierce gesture, like a cruel hunter setting his 
 hounds at a fallen prey, he flung out his arm. 
 
 " See ! The accursed dolls, the hideous idols ! " he 
 cried. " See the graven images before which the people 
 are wont to offer sacrilegious prayer ! Away with these 
 sham gods ! We are come to cleanse God's church ! 
 Down with these wanton effigies ! " 
 
 The black- cloaked company rushed into the church. 
 Like madmen they broke open the wrought-iron railings 
 before the tombs of Bohemia's nobles, and with fury they 
 attacked the altars, trampling under foot the silken hang- 
 ings, strewing the withered flowers upon the ground, and 
 hurling down the golden altar vases. Half a hundred 
 German masons and artisans, and a band of mercenary 
 soldiers whom Scultetus had summoned to perform this 
 foul task, set to work upon the stone figures of the saints, 
 dealing blow after blow with their hammers upon the 
 serene faces of the sacred statues. A flood of ribaldry 
 broke loose as the madness of destruction rose in the 
 hearts of these rough men, half-drunken already from 
 the raw spirits which the Calvinist had caused to be 
 served to them ere they followed him to the church. 
 
 " Ha ! you meek-faced wench, you'd have made a 
 pretty bedfellow had you tried that game instead of 
 piping prayers ! " yelled one man as he shattered the
 
 PRAGUE 189 
 
 mild brow of St. Agnes. A roar of coarse laughter 
 greeted this. 
 
 " Come, here's Peter with his keybunch J I would it 
 could open the priests' cellar," shouted another, while 
 he hacked with his heavy axe into the gilded statue of 
 St. Peter. 
 
 " See, comrades ! I've found a blessed saint's pate," 
 roared a drunken Saxon lurching from a side-chapel. 
 " Here ! catch it then ! I'll warrant 'twill make a good 
 ball ! " He flung the skull into a group of workers who 
 toiled to shatter the delicate stone tracery of the chancel 
 gate. 
 
 The ravagers warmed to their work. Scultetus stood 
 with folded arms gazing on the ghastly sight with a 
 smile of exultation. He laid no touch upon the wrecked 
 church, but he gloated over each blow dealt to those 
 accursed Popish images. The church was like some mad 
 dream of a devastated feasting-hall ; the ground was strewn 
 with silken hangings, with velvets, with embroideries of 
 gold and silver thread ; golden vases rolled on the stone 
 floor ; waxen limbs from the lesser shrines lay, grotesque 
 and horrible, in the folds of the altar-cloths ; gilt and silver 
 candlesticks, bent and twisted, lay about; and jewelled 
 reliquaries, despoiled of their precious stones, were mixed 
 into the gorgeous refuse of spoiled beauty; and every- 
 where, like symbols of death, lay the withered flowers 
 from the altars. The thunderous noise of hammers upon 
 the stone rang out unceasingly, while ever and anon a 
 deafening crash told that another statue had been felled. 
 A knot of men made it their especial task to empty the 
 reliquaries, and with obscene jests the sacred dust was 
 flung about, and the brittle bones of the long dead were 
 broken and thrown into the air with lewd shouts for their 
 last requiem mass. 
 
 Still, over all, the crucified King remained inviolate, 
 high above the wrecked rood-screen. Only two things 
 had been spared by the destroyers the crucifix and the 
 royal oratory, that quaint fifteenth-century gallery which 
 clung to the church wall like a swallow's nest, high above
 
 190 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the ravagers' reach. But it was not for this reason that 
 the oratory had been spared; Scultetus, the low-born 
 preacher, had commanded his men to lay no touch upon 
 this sacred place of royal prayer ; and thus, although the 
 aureoled figures of saints were mingled with the emblems 
 of monarchy in the ornaments of the oratory, they had 
 remained scatheless. 
 
 The crimson curtain in the royal gallery was thrust 
 aside, and Friedrich, King of Bohemia, looked down and 
 saw how his new country's beloved cathedral was turned 
 into the shambles of beauty and a fearful picture of out- 
 raged reverence. Scultetus saw him and pointed at the 
 destruction. 
 
 " As the Lord purged the Temple, so have I cleansed 
 this church of the dross of idolatry," he said sternly. 
 The wreckers, seeing King Friedrich, paused in their 
 abominable work. 
 
 " On, my friends ! " cried Scultetus. " Pull down the 
 last vestige of the heathen's worship ! " His glance rested 
 on the crucifix. " Ah ! here is work for you ! " he cried. 
 " Break me that profane thing of the image-worshippers ! 
 Down ! Down ! " 
 
 Among the gentry who had accompanied Scultetus, 
 indeed those who had led the work of destruction, were 
 six Bohemians of the lesser nobility ; these were Bushuslav, 
 Berkha, Budowitz, young Michaelowitz, Berbistorf, and 
 Daniel Secreta. Calvinists and sworn enemies of the 
 priests, they had joyed in the havoc, but even they hung 
 back before the wrecking of the crucifix. It was Bohemia's 
 most venerated shrine this great crucifix of St. Vitus, and 
 a most beauteous work of the twelfth century. 
 
 " It is pity to break that, master," muttered Berkha 
 hesitatingly. " It cannot harm to leave that." 
 
 " You are not earnest for the Faith, sir ! Root and 
 branch shall this church be cleansed of the defilement 
 of filthy idols," cried Scultetus, and to the masons he 
 shouted : " On to your task ! I will pay a double wage 
 to those who break down yonder heathen image." His 
 words renewed the workmen's ardour, and in an instant
 
 PRAGUE 191 
 
 they had roped the head of Christ, and sixteen men 
 dragged at the cords, while a score hewed and hammered 
 at the base of the cross. 
 
 With a thunderous crash the mass of stone fell to the 
 ground, and for a moment the wreckers drew back in 
 superstitious awe, for the whole church rocked, as if the 
 mighty edifice shuddered at the sacrilege. The fall had 
 broken the stone cross, and, among the crimson velvets 
 of a heap of altar-cloths, the Figure of the Crucified 
 lay prone, strangely real and piteous like a newly-slain 
 victim. The awestruck workmen stood huddled together, 
 but Berbistorf, recovering from his momentary fear, sprang 
 forward and touched the prone Figure with his foot. 
 
 " Ha ! " he exclaimed, laughing gruffly. " Ha ! Thou 
 who hast claimed to save sinners, prove now Thy power, 
 save Thyself ! Ho, ho ! He cannot ! See, comrades, the 
 idol is broken down! " Scornfully the blasphemer spurned 
 the fallen Christ. "Wretched doll whom fools have 
 worshipped ! " he cried, and spat into the tranquil Face 
 beneath the crown of thorns. It is well known how wit 
 is sharpened by approval, and the workmen's rough 
 laughter again inspired Berbistorf. 
 
 " Bring me that image of John," he called ; and two 
 score of eager hands obeyed him. The statue of the 
 beloved Apostle was dragged from its resting-place against 
 the shattered gates of the royal tomb of Bohemia. 
 
 " Here ! lay the thing beside the woman Mary," cried 
 Berbistorf; and as the willing, well-paid hirelings laid the 
 statue next to that of the blessed Virgin, Berbistorf rolled 
 the sculptured saint against Our Lady's statue, and laugh- 
 ing loud, cried out : * 
 
 "Ye loved each other upon earth; there, I've put 
 you together again so that ye may be free to love once 
 more ! " 
 
 There was a moment's silence wherein the clink of the 
 metal rings which held the velvet hangings of the royal 
 oratory window was clearly heard. Friedrich, King of 
 Bohemia, had closed the curtain, and had disappeared 
 from the sight of his supporters, who were doing such
 
 192 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 glorious work for Bohemia and the Faith in the name 
 of God. 
 
 Seeing that the King had fled before this insult to 
 womanhood in the person of God's Blessed Mother, Scul- 
 tetus smiled. Really, his Majesty was too faint-hearted; 
 but it mattered not, he, Scultetus, was at hand to battle 
 for the pure Faith of Calvin ; and he, at least, would never 
 waver, never recoil before God's service. 
 
 The King left the royal oratory, and hurried through 
 the long corridors of the rambling palace to the Queen's 
 apartments. In the ante-chamber he met Count Schlick 
 and Bernard Thurn. Both men were in the grip of 
 strong emotion, and Schlick poured forth a stream of 
 soft, swift Czech when he saw the king. 
 
 " Sire ! " cried Thurn, silencing his voluble companion, 
 for he remembered that Friedrich understood no word of 
 Czech, " there is terrible work afoot in the Vitus Church ! 
 You cannot know what your preacher is doing, but, for 
 God's sake, stop this sacrilege 1 It will turn the heart 
 of every Bohemian against you. I implore you 
 Friedrich stopped him with a haughty wave of his hand. 
 " My young Lord of Thurn," he said coldly, " you are for 
 ever trying to teach me my duty. You forget who I 
 am, and also that I am an older man than you ; you 
 should learn respect for my riper experience ! " 
 
 "You may be a hundred years older than I, sire," 
 cried Thurn hotly, " but I know the Bohemian people 
 as you cannot know them yet. The experience of one 
 country is useless hi another, and your German experi- 
 ence cannot aid you in Bohemia. There is no time to 
 be lost, sire, I pray you I pray you, stop this ruthless 
 madman, who will wreck your kingdom " 
 
 " Silence, sir ! You speak of your superior in age and 
 knowledge!" answered the King pompously. Thurn spoke 
 to Schlick in Bohemian. The old man caught the King's 
 arm, and addressed him in a choking voice. Friedrich 
 looked at him. In spite of himself, he was impressed by 
 Schlick's manner.
 
 PRAGUE 193 
 
 "Translate what the Count says," he ordered Thurn. 
 
 " Andreas Schlick tells your Majesty what each Bohe- 
 mian will say in his heart to-day when he hears that 
 our country is in the hands of a man who knows no 
 reverence for Bohemia ! Count Schlick says thus : ' The 
 die is cast ! ' " Thurn replied sternly. 
 
 " You are traitors," began the King furiously, 
 
 " Nay, sire, we are no traitors ; but we know that he 
 who wounds the trust of Bohemians will receive but half- 
 hearted service from them in his dire need," young Thurn 
 said. 
 
 " Arrest this gentleman ! " called the King to a guard, 
 who stood at the door of the ante-chamber. Thurn 
 unfastened his sword-belt, and, kneeling, presented his 
 sword to Friedrich. 
 
 With one of those quick changes of mood to which 
 the undecided are liable, the King pushed aside the prof- 
 fered sword-hilt. 
 
 " Nay ; you meant well. Keep your sword, and learn 
 that you cannot browbeat a king," he said grandilo- 
 quently, and passed into the Queen's apartments. 
 
 " Alas, for Bohemia ! " exclaimed Schlick. " We have 
 chosen a pretty boy who can play at being king in a 
 masquerade ; but we wanted either a strong man to rule 
 us, or a puppet to obey us. King Friedrich is neither of 
 these, and Bohemia is doomed." 
 
 In the town of Prague the news of the wrecking of St. 
 Vitus was received with strange indifference. It seemed 
 as though Schlick and Thurn had miscalculated the 
 people's love for their ancient church, and Friedrich, 
 seeing this, felt himself the more secure, more than ever 
 the master of his people. They had made no murmur 
 against the enforcement of his will in this most vital 
 thing. How should they ? he argued, since, having 
 chosen a Calvinist for their King, they must have always 
 understood that, though as champion of religious freedom 
 he would permit the Lutherans, the Bohemian Brethren, 
 and even the few remaining Taborites to worship as they 
 listed, no such leniency could be shown to Papists. 
 
 N
 
 194 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 How could Friedrich know that he owed his people's 
 calmness to the Domherren ? He did not dream that 
 the priests, gliding through the narrow streets, whispered 
 patience to the people. Patience ! for had not the Holy 
 Father, the Pope himself, said that Friedrich was but a 
 king of snows, like to the snow men that children built 
 in winter, he and his dominion would melt away and 
 vanish in a little time. The priests wished for no prema- 
 ture revolt, ending in bloodshed and ultimate submission. 
 They waited, knowing that the Imperial army was still 
 too far away to aid them ; knowing right well, too, that 
 Maximilian of Bavaria's disciplined troops would brush 
 away like dust the feeble resistance of the ill-paid, under- 
 fed, half-hearted Bohemian army. But the time was not 
 yet, and the priests bade the people to wait quietly, and 
 they were obeyed ; for though many to whom they spoke 
 were Lutherans, from early youth they had known the 
 priests, whereas the Calvinists were strangers to them. 
 Also, the priests spoke to them in their own tongue 
 that soft, well-beloved language, of which, as the priests 
 reminded the people, neither Friedrich, Elizabeth, nor 
 their Court knew a single word. 
 
 With full confidence in himself and his prosperity, the 
 King left Prague to visit his new dominions in Moravia 
 and Silesia. He was accompanied by a fine retinue, and 
 by Master Scultetus. It was a triumph to the preacher 
 to journey thus through Silesia. He, the son of a Silesian 
 peasant, could now exhibit himself to his compatriots as 
 the nearest friend, the trusty adviser, the ruler of a king. 
 King Friedrich tarried longer than arranged in Silesia, 
 and, neglecting Lusatia, returned forthwith to Prague for 
 the baptism of his infant son. Once more the Hradcany 
 Palace was the scene of sumptuous banqueting and 
 costly rejoicings. And, as a fresh mark of the Bohe- 
 mians' confidence, the King's son was proclaimed Crown 
 Prince of Bohemia, thus confirming the heredity of the 
 Bohemian crown. The people desired the newly chris- 
 tened infant, Rupert, to be their Crown Prince ; but in 
 this, as in all else, they bowed to the King's will, and the
 
 PRAGUE 195 
 
 elder brother, Henry Friedrich, was recognised as heir- 
 apparent. 
 
 Friedrich was complacent in his prosperity, and he 
 wrote James I. a glowing account of the splendour of a 
 Bohemian king, reassuring his father-in-law as to the 
 stability of his crown, and praising his army which he 
 had not yet inspected. 
 
 The people of Prague were unwearied, it seemed, in 
 paying homage to their King. Even the Jews gave 
 proof of heartfelt loyalty, and one day in March a deputa- 
 tion from the Ghetto waited on their Majesties. A group 
 of black-bearded men, clad in long black caftans and high 
 black three-tiered hats, kneeled before the King and Queen, 
 and presented her Majesty with a beautiful diadem which 
 the skilled goldsmiths of the Prague Ghetto had wrought 
 in finest gold and enriched with many diamonds and 
 faultless pearls. 
 
 King Friedrich was disinclined to be gracious to the 
 Jews ; he considered them as an inferior people whom all 
 good Christians had the duty to oppress, a swarming race 
 which was, very properly, shut into a filthy, overpopulated 
 quarter of all great cities ; cringing creatures whom it was 
 legitimate to tax heavily ; otherwise he deemed them 
 beneath the notice of any reputable German. But, for 
 once, the Bohemian nobles succeeded in drowning Scul- 
 tetus' voice and the dictates of German culture and 
 custom, and it was explained to the King that the Jews 
 of Prague had ever been allowed a freer existence. They 
 had been permitted to hold services in their synagogue 
 since the twelfth century, and at his Majesty's own royal 
 entrance into Prague, and on the coronation day, they 
 had even been allowed the honour of patrolling the streets 
 with barrels of water strapped upon their shoulders to be 
 used in the event of an outbreak of fire. So Friedrich 
 received the Jews graciously, and deigned to accept from 
 them, besides the diadem, a donation of ducats. 
 
 Slowly the winter left Bohemia, and spring came to 
 icebound Prague. The gaieties at Court were more bril- 
 liant than ever. In the sixteenth-century " Hall of
 
 196 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Homage " there were almost daily grand banquets, and 
 in the " German Hall " the courtiers danced each night. 
 The English ladies were the queens of the revels. Grace- 
 ful, young, sumptuously dressed, how could they be other- 
 wise than a revelation of charm to the Bohemian gallants ? 
 Unwittingly they rendered their Queen a sorry service, for 
 the neglected Bohemian ladies grew jealous, and like all 
 jealous women they ascribed their foreign rivals' triumphs 
 to unseemly conduct. Mistress Alison Hay dancing the 
 couranto with my young Lord of Bustehrad, her fair face 
 aflush with youth and gaiety, her satin bodice cut low to 
 show her white neck and bosom, seemed to the envious 
 Bohemian damsels, sitting unnoticed by the gallants, to be 
 a very Phryne ; and my Lady Phyllis Devereux, laughing 
 behind her fan and whispering harmless jests to Wratis- 
 law or to Duba, was to them a Circe enthralling the fickle 
 hearts of men with evil wiles. Of course, the more sour 
 the Bohemian ladies looked the less the gallants sought 
 them in the dance, and the more brilliantly by contrast 
 shone the foreign enchantresses. As for the Queen herself 
 there were soon ugly rumours afloat anent her. Bernard 
 Thurn was her enamoured slave. " Of course ! " whispered 
 the good dames, " as her Christel of Anhalt has gone to 
 the army she needs must find another lover." Her 
 Majesty's low-cut bodices evoked the disapproval of the 
 Bohemian ladies. "Bare-breasted and light-mannered," 
 they muttered to each other as the Queen passed them 
 pacing the stately Pavyn. It did not mend matters that 
 the Bohemian gentlemen were outspoken in their praise 
 of the English ladies, or that they angrily repudiated 
 their compatriots' insinuations concerning the Queen and 
 her Court. Gradually the Bohemian ladies withdrew 
 entirely from the Court in the Hradcany. To the royal 
 commands they pleaded illness or fatigue or absence at 
 their castles in the country. But what cared her Majesty ? 
 These dull creatures with their unmodish dress, their 
 stuffy bodices high to the neck like to travelling or hunt- 
 ing corsages, their heavy, sullen faces and sour looks, were 
 better away, her Majesty declared. She did not know how
 
 PRAGUE 197 
 
 full of fascination those heavy Czechish faces can be if a 
 smile touches the lips and lights the brooding, sombre eyes. 
 
 But the Bohemian gallants were assiduous in their 
 attendance at Court, and the revelry continued unabated. 
 
 By the end of May the sun beat down fiercely on 
 Prague, and the burghers commenced their usual summer 
 existence. The hostelries set out hundreds of little tables 
 beneath gay-coloured awnings in the streets, and the city- 
 bound populace feasted and made merry. In the cool of 
 the evening an unending stream of loiterers paced the 
 chief streets, and hung about in the squares, a laughing, 
 chattering crowd. It was the custom for the people to 
 bathe in the Moldau beneath the ancient bridge between 
 the Two Cities, the " Old Town " and the " Small Side " of 
 Prague. One stifling evening the King and a few German 
 courtiers chanced to pass that way. Indolently Friedrich 
 leaned over the bridge. 
 
 " How cool the water looks ! " he said, " I would fain 
 join those bathers ! " 
 
 " Your Majesty could not bathe with such filthy rabble," 
 cried Schornberg, aghast. 
 
 " They are not rabble, but my faithful citizens," returned 
 the King. " I have a mind to go now, and show them 
 that I am indeed their comrade ! " In vain Schornberg 
 protested ; Friedrich was set upon it, and passing down 
 to the river bank he undressed and sprang into the water. 
 Like wildfire the news spread through the crowd of 
 loiterers in the city : " The King bathes in the Moldau," 
 and to Schomberg's annoyance he saw a stream of on- 
 lookers gathering on the bridge, and he heard in their 
 laughter both surprise and derision, though he could, not 
 understand the Czechish words. 
 
 At length the King left the water, and reclothed 
 himself on the bank, the crowd laughing and jeering 
 meanwhile. With flushed cheeks his Majesty rejoined 
 Schomberg and the courtiers. 
 
 "I love my people to know that I am one of them," 
 Friedrich said with pompous humility. Schomberg shook 
 his head.
 
 198 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " See ! " cried the King, " with what affection they greet 
 me 1 " Bowing and smiling he passed through the crowd, 
 in his ignorance of the language mistaking their mocking 
 remarks and laughter for affectionate approval. 
 
 Once more Friedrich had shown his lack of under- 
 standing of his new people. In Germany, perhaps, his 
 unwonted familiarity would have been counted as gracious 
 condescension, but the Czechs loved that dignity and 
 mystery which comes by the seclusion and aloofness of 
 the great. The nobles would be disgusted by the thought 
 of their King swimming about beside the barber and the 
 apothecary, the tailor's apprentice and the butcher's lad, 
 and the people themselves would jeer at the King. This 
 young Thurn set forth to Schomberg on the return to the 
 Hradcany, and never again did Friedrich bathe in the 
 Moldau ; but that one swim had been sufficient to lessen 
 the Czechs' respect for their King. Also the gossip con- 
 cerning the levity of the Court festivities spread from the 
 noble dames' parlours to the burghers and populace. Un- 
 remittingly the Domherren worked to depict Friedrich and 
 his Court as wanton triflers, and by the summer the flame 
 of enthusiasm which had greeted the new King had died 
 down and indifference or veiled hostility to the new 
 monarchy grew apace. 
 
 Her Majesty Elizabeth knew nothing of the King's 
 bathing exploit, for Friedrich, like most weak men, would 
 liefer have confessed a crime to the woman he loved than 
 have owned to an indiscreet blunder. 
 
 Elizabeth was happy in Prague. Sometimes she smiled 
 when she recalled the grim menace which Captain Bell 
 had revealed to her at the Heidelberg ball four years since. 
 Then it had been held that, an she visited Prague, she 
 would be the victim of murder ; yet here she was Queen 
 in the very palace where the Empress Anna, it had been 
 said, would have done her to death. Ah ! how foolish it 
 had all been ! How much easier, less complicated, less 
 sombre was life than men's fancy painted it ! All was well, 
 had been well, would continue well, she told herself. 
 
 There came a rumour that Spanish troops under Spinola
 
 PRAGUE 199 
 
 menaced the Palatinate. What foolishness ! Of course, 
 they were on their way to the Spanish Netherlands. Had 
 not Gondomer, the Spanish ambassador, assured King 
 James that this was so ? 
 
 " When an army is bound for a distant land, can it fly 
 over an intervening country ? " her Majesty cried when 
 Friedrich and his advisers looked grave. How should the 
 Spanish King dare to attack the lands of a Prince of the 
 Protestant Union ? He would not dare to violate all 
 treaties, nor to risk the enmity of England, of Sweden, 
 and of Denmark. It was absurd to be alarmed. Yet 
 Juliane and the two little ones had best journey to 
 Berlin to be out of possible harm's way. But her Majesty 
 would not permit her Court to be turned into a collection 
 of anxious-faced tremblers before this menace, which was 
 probably no menace at all, as she said. Men are easily 
 convinced of that which they wish to believe, and King 
 Friedrich thrust aside his anxiety and plunged again into 
 the gay Court life. He hunted and feasted, danced and 
 made merry, and spoke enthusiastically of the future. 
 
 One brilliant summer morning their Majesties and their 
 train rode from the Hradcany Palace down the steep lane 
 beside the stag park wall towards the river. The Queen 
 wore a flowing green-velvet robe embroidered with silver, a 
 soft broad-brimmed brown felt hat with a sweeping plume, 
 and richly embroidered gauntlets, and such was the mode 
 adopted by the ladies who followed her. The King and 
 his gallants, too, were attired for the chase in green velvet 
 doublets slashed with silver, and soft beplumed felt hats. 
 Behind the Court rode an army of huntsmen and stalwart 
 falconers, bearing the hooded falcons chained to their wrists. 
 The young birds which were not yet fully trained were 
 carried by henchmen in green-cloth bags. The kennel- 
 master and his men followed, with the graceful, eager 
 coursers straining at their leashes and filling the air with 
 sharp barks and yaps of pleasure. 
 
 The gallant company clattered along the narrow street, 
 and passed on to the Karlsbriicke,the venerable fourteenth- 
 century bridge built by the Emperor Charles IV. Here
 
 200 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 was a hurrying crowd : peasants with empty barrows re- 
 turning from the market, merchants in sober-coloured 
 raiment hastening to their business, men-at-arms in 
 their buff-leather tunics, heavy boots with the loose tops 
 drawn high above the knee, and small, round, burnished 
 helmets upon the undercaps of yellow leather ; here, too, 
 were many bearded Jews in their black caftans or gaber- 
 dines, and their high three-tiered hats, whence escaped the 
 long black hair and the two carefully twisted oily curls, 
 one behind each ear. An old woman, wrapped in filthy 
 rags, crouched on the coping of the stone bridge balustrade, 
 singing a monotonous wailing melody almost Eastern in its 
 rhythm and its weird unusual intervals. It was a true 
 Bohemian melody, wild and despairing, laden with all the 
 luxury of sadness of the Slav soul. The Queen checked 
 her horse an instant. 
 
 " Give her a golden piece, Schomberg," she called, " her 
 song is so mournful 'twill ring in my ears for an hour." 
 She rode on laughing carelessly. Beneath the bridge a 
 multitude of unclothed men and women were splashing in 
 the river, unsightly old harridans with withered breasts, 
 and young women displaying their bodies with perfect un- 
 concern the thoughtlessness of old custom not of brazen 
 indecency ; men of all sorts, young and muscular like 
 bronze statues, others old, sere, and yellow, with the flaccid 
 flesh pendulous upon the gaunt framework of bone. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart flushed angrily. " I have desired it 
 to be arranged that these naked bathers should not be 
 here when I pass over this bridge ! " she cried. The King 
 looked uncomfortable. After his own bathing exploit he had 
 felt it difficult to forbid the people to bathe near the bridge. 
 
 "They are very harmless-" he began hesitatingly. 
 
 " They are very ugly ! " retorted the Queen. " I will 
 not have these naked bathers near the bridge; I will never 
 pass this way till they are removed." As she spoke the 
 cavalcade rode past the ancient crucifix on the centre of 
 the bridge. A thin-faced man in a priest's shabby cassock 
 stood near and heard the Queen's words. She had spoken 
 in French.
 
 PRAGUE 201 
 
 Gaily the hunting-party rode through the Old Town 
 and out into the forest beyond the city, and, in the amuse- 
 ment of the hawking and coursing, Elizabeth soon forgot 
 her temporary annoyance. 
 
 Master Scultetus had not accompanied their Majesties 
 that day, he had a more congenial task in hand. The 
 preceding evening he had received the King's permission 
 for the destruction of the crucifix on the Emperor Charles' 
 Bridge, and that day he repaired to the town councillors 
 to convey his Majesty's commands for the removal of the 
 idolatrous image. To his surprise he found the city 
 authorities stubborn in their refusal to carry out these 
 orders. The crucifix was an ancient landmark, an historic 
 relic of Bohemia's beloved Emperor Charles IV.; the people 
 would rise in revolt if it were removed. They assured 
 Master Scultetus that it would be unwise to pull down 
 this cross, they begged him to spare it ; but the preacher 
 insisted, and high words passed in the Rathaus. Finally 
 the authorities definitely refused to order the removal of 
 the crucifix, and Scultetus returned to the Hradcany 
 Palace to brood over his rebuff. He decided that it would 
 be best not to acquaint the King of this embroglio. His 
 Majesty was both weak and lenient, and might order the 
 Bohemians' cherished cross to be spared. 
 
 While Scultetus was pondering, and their Majesties 
 were enjoying the hawking, a thin-faced man in a shabby 
 cassock was despatching some fifty priests through the 
 streets of Prague on a special mission. This mission was 
 merely the repeating of two sentences : " Father Wladislas 
 heard the Queen order the destruction of the great crucifix. 
 She said she would never ride over the bridge until the 
 naked bather so she called the Christ on the Cross had 
 been removed. 1 " 1 Into a hundred stifling alleys, up many 
 steep, dingy staircases, into burgher's house and poor man's 
 hovel, the priestly emissaries passed, delivering their mes- 
 sage without comment. 
 
 On the morrow at dawn a band of workmen repaired to 
 the Karlsbriicke. They were met by a host of defiant men 
 who asked their business. The workmen replied that by
 
 202 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the King's command they had come to take down the 
 crucifix. Calmly the spokesman of the rabble, a thin- 
 faced man, clad in a sober-coloured tunic, answered that 
 the first worker who laid his chisel to the crucifix would 
 be a dead man ere the church clocks tolled the hour again. 
 The hirelings slunk away. Silently the crowd on the 
 bridge waited. Hour after hour they stood hi the blazing 
 sun guarding the crucifix. Late in the afternoon the city 
 authorities appeared and informed the crowd that his 
 Majesty had reconsidered his decision, and the crucifix 
 would remain where it had stood for three hundred years. 
 The people had won a victory over their King, but, as 
 the priests reminded them, the light-minded Queen had 
 vowed never to pass over the bridge till the " Naked 
 Bather" was removed. They must watch whether she 
 had repented of her impious saying. If she rode as 
 usual over the bridge it would denote that she was 
 penitent, but if she avoided it they might know that she 
 adhered to her blasphemous vow.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE KING'S VISION 
 
 " Oh, blindness to the future, kindly given, 
 That each may fill the circle marked by heaven ; 
 Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, 
 A hero perish or a sparrow fall, 
 Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd, 
 And now a bubble burst, and now a world." POPE. 
 
 FIERCELY the sun glared down on the city of 
 Prague, and the Moldau became a mere thread 
 between shelving banks of reeking mud, while a 
 stale, sickly stench rose from the dirty streets. Elizabeth 
 Stuart remained in the fresher air of the palace gardens 
 on the crest of the Hradcin hill. For the most part, when 
 she rode out she took her way across the White Moun- 
 tain to the stag park around the Star Palace. Once or 
 twice she rode to the Karlstein fortress in the hills, and 
 young Thurn proudly showed her Bohemia's glory, as he 
 called the castle, with its tier upon tier of cyclopic walls. 
 He showed her, too, the heavy stones which the besieging 
 Hussites had flung into the fortress, but he boasted that 
 Karlstein had never been captured. Only treachery could 
 open the gates to an enemy, he said. 
 
 " How now, sir ! " cried her Majesty, laughing. " This 
 castle is to be garrisoned by a troop of English gentlemen 
 who have volunteered in my service. You will not dare 
 to suggest that my countrymen could be traitors ? " 
 
 " Nay, madame. I do not know these English gentle- 
 men. An it comes to warfare in this country, I trust them 
 to match our Czechish bravery," he answered courteously. 
 
 Her Majesty did not share Thurn's enthusiasm for Karl- 
 stein, she vowed it was too strong to be alluring, and that 
 
 203
 
 204 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 she felt melancholy steal over her in that grim mountain 
 scenery. The Star Palace was more to her liking, and 
 thither she repaired almost daily. Thus she avoided the 
 pestilential smells of the sun-baked city and the ugly sight 
 of the naked bathers in the Moldau, for although the river 
 was so poor in water, the townsfolk adhered to their 
 custom, and splashed in dozens in the muddy water. 
 
 During the summer it was rumoured in Prague that the 
 Hungarian crown would be offered to King Friedrich, the 
 adventurer Bethlem Gabor, Prince of Transylvania, having 
 refused the honour of the throne of Hungary. Though 
 Friedrich affected to consider this an absurd rumour, still 
 he was flattered thereby. His confidence in himself and 
 his splendid destiny was increased, and when a few weeks 
 later the news came that Gabor had, after all, accepted the 
 Hungarian crown, his Majesty was visibly disappointed. 
 
 One brilliant late August afternoon the King and Queen 
 and their Court rode along the crest of the White Moun- 
 tain to the Star Palace. The dust lay thick on the narrow 
 road, and the scant grass on the long, low hill hardly showed 
 against the grey of the arid chalky soil. 
 
 " The White Mountain justifies its name to-day," said 
 Elizabeth as she rode along. 
 
 " 'Tis dreary enough," replied the King gloomily. He 
 was in one of his sombre moods that day, and the feast 
 at the Star Palace had been designed by her Majesty to 
 cheer him from his ill-humour. 
 
 They drew near to the park. Here all was fresh and 
 cool ; the air was fragrant Avith the resinous scent of the 
 fir-trees and a gentle breeze stirred the branches. Her 
 Majesty's jennet broke into a canter, and the troop of 
 courtiers followed laughing and chattering. They dis- 
 mounted at the gate of the Pavilion. 
 
 " Ah ! how cool and sweet ! " cried Elizabeth, as she 
 entered the centre hall. " And what have we here to enter- 
 tain us ? " she added, for from out a room, which formed 
 one of the points of the star, floated a strain of music. 
 
 " I have made bold, your Majesty, to order these 
 musicians to play," said young Thurn, " it is a wandering
 
 THE KING'S VISION 205 
 
 French, troupe, and I deemed they might wile away an 
 hour for you." Her Majesty smiled approval. In Heidel- 
 berg she had often been amused by travelling minstrels or 
 playactors, for these itinerant French or English mimes 
 wandered from Court to Court in Germany and Italy. 
 Especially the English playactors were frequent visitors, 
 and thus were Shakespeare's plays, Ben Jonson's masks, 
 and even Beaumont and Fletcher's crude dramas, made 
 familiar in many lands. But Bohemia was a far-off country, 
 beyond the route of these wanderers. Probably the 
 Frenchmen had beguiled the tedium of the camps alike 
 of Bucquoi, of Mansfeld in Pilsen, and of the chief Bo- 
 hemian army on the borders of Lower Austria, and now 
 had even penetrated to Prague. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart hailed with delight the advent of 
 something new, for albeit she had made merry in Prague 
 she had been keenly aware of the stagnation which always 
 broods over the cities which lie far from the main stream 
 of life. Through Heidelberg travellers had ridden on 
 their road from north to south, but who should journey 
 through Prague ? 
 
 " Bid your musicians sing the newest romances of 
 France," the Queen cried, as she sat down to the repast 
 which was laid out in the central hall. 
 
 The French minstrels sang a few amorous conceits, and 
 a many free political ballads, absurd songs about the Con- 
 cinis with rough puns on their title, such as that the 
 Court of France was white as snow now that 1'Encre 
 (Concini had been created Marquis d'Ancre) had been 
 removed, a grim jest enough when we remember how 
 Marie de Medici's favourite had been brutally done to 
 death, but the Bohemian Court laughed at the song, so 
 all was well. There were pasquinades against Louis XIII. 
 and his Due de Luynes, and mention of an intriguing 
 priest, a Bishop of Luc,on ; again puns : " Ce Richelieu 
 a quitte ce riche lieu de Paris," and so on ; all the swift 
 mocking wit of Parisian song gay, light, diverting. Mean- 
 while King Friedrich and the courtiers discussed the news 
 of the world.
 
 206 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " I hear our cousin of Brunswick would fain leave mine 
 uncle Maurice's service and join us in Bohemia," the King 
 said after a time. 
 
 " A fine soldier 'tis said," answered Dohna, who sat near 
 the Queen, " but so wild and evil of life that he devastates 
 a province more than a whole army." 
 
 " Is it he who at Haarlem threw the intruding husband 
 out of the man's own lawful bedchamber window ? " asked 
 a Bohemian noble. 
 
 " Ah ! sir," cried the King, laughing, " has that little 
 history travelled so far ? Yes, it is Christian of Bruns- 
 wick who did that, so the story runs." And now the 
 whole company fell to talking of the " mad Halberstadter," 
 as Duke Christian was called, from his possession as Ad- 
 ministrator or Lay Bishop of the See of Halberstadt. 
 
 Her Majesty sat silent; during the last few months she 
 had heard a plethora of sorry tales concerning her close 
 kinsman, and a strong distaste for him had grown up in 
 her mind. She well remembered his kindly sister Sophie, 
 Countess of Nassau, who had been so friendly to her in 
 Holland on the journey from England to Heidelberg some 
 seven years since. Also Elizabeth had been told that this 
 evildoer's mother her own aunt, the Duchess Elizabeth 
 of Brunswick had near broke her heart over her son's 
 riotous way of living. 
 
 " Is my cousin of Brunswick coming to Prague ? " her 
 Majesty interrupted suddenly. Friedrich was laughing 
 loudly at some broad anecdote which Dohna had told in 
 Lathi. The King turned to Elizabeth. 
 
 " Your pardon, ma mie, I did not hear what you said ? " 
 he queried. 
 
 " I asked if you would permit this evil kinsman of mine 
 to come to Prague ? " she repeated. 
 
 " Why not, madame ? Are you afraid for your damsels' 
 honour ? " said the King lightly. 
 
 " Indeed, sire, we should welcome a new gallant ! I 
 warrant he would behave well enough to us ; we are not 
 like the foolish Mevrouws and Fraules of Holland ! " cried 
 my Lady Phyllis Devereux.
 
 THE KING'S VISION 207 
 
 " Be silent, Phyllis ! " commanded her Majesty. " The 
 Halberstadter is no subject for the talk of an honest 
 maid." A silence fell on the company for an instant, and 
 the French singers burst forth once more into a gay ditty 
 which told of virtuous ladies resisting love. Each couplet 
 recounted the delicious defeat of womanly resistance to the 
 lordship of passion, and finished with the refrain : 
 
 " Inustiles sont appastz 
 Si parfaictz et delicatz 
 Parfumes dans leurs atours ! 
 Vaine est ceste beaute 
 Si oncques n'avez gouste 
 Puyssans et vrays amours." 
 
 " So says the Halberstadter too, ma reine ! " cried 
 Friedrich, laughing. 
 
 " Such men do not know the meaning of ' Puyssans et 
 vrays amours.' As our own poet, Master Shakespeare, hath 
 it : ' Call it not Love, for Love to heaven is fled, since 
 sweating Lust on earth usurp'd his name,' " she answered. 
 
 " Ah ! learned Queen ! " said Friedrich merrily. " What 
 can a poor wight such as I answer to so erudite a lady ? " 
 The Queen rose. 
 
 " 'Tis time to leave our lords when they are bestowing 
 that pitying praise to woman's wit which nearly always 
 means, methinks, that in the argument the kings of the 
 world have been a trifle worsted ! " 
 
 The laughing company broke up, and the ladies and 
 gallants wandered away into the park. Elizabeth Stuart 
 and the King lingered near the gate. The Queen spoke 
 of the strangeness of a pavilion being thus strongly 
 fortified. 
 
 " There is something sombre in the thought that even 
 this place, meant for alfresco feasts and courtly gaiety, 
 must needs be girt by such ponderous walls," she said 
 musingly. 
 
 " We will pull down these frowning defences, dear heart, 
 an it pleases you," replied King Friedrich, " and I will 
 have flowering parterres planted here next spring. We 
 will send for good Maitre De Caus, and he shall make
 
 208 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 a paradise of flowers here for you. ' Roses red and roses 
 white, growing for my love's delight,' as Mistress Alison 
 Hay's old Scotch song saith." They fell to talking of 
 Heidelberg and their beloved garden. Ah, well ! next 
 year Master De Cans should turn the Hradcany gardens 
 into a marvel of beauty. 
 
 " An we be not attacked by the Emperor ere then," 
 said Elizabeth with sudden anxiety. 
 
 " Nay, there may be a short campaign on the borders 
 of Lower Austria," he answered reassuringly, " but Bucquoi, 
 as heretofore, will always hesitate to attack us. Here we 
 are safe enough, for our army is between us and our 
 undecided foes. I have no fear for the future." He 
 took her hand and kissed the delicate palm gently. " The 
 future ! Ah ! the present is enough for me ! " he murmured 
 amorously. 
 
 A great stillness lay over the summer evening, and 
 the air was heavy with the scent of the sun-kissed fir 
 groves. Already the shadows of the trees fell in ever- 
 lengthening shapes upon the clipped grass between the 
 wood and the pavilion, and the dying sun shone in a 
 glory upon the Queen as she stood gazing out towards 
 the west. 
 
 " Such wondrous peace ! " she said dreamily. " Some 
 day when you are Emperor of all the Protestant lands, 
 I shall retreat to the Star Palace and console my old age 
 with the memory of our happy days together," she spoke 
 jestingly. 
 
 " You would leave me, sweet heart of mine ? " he 
 queried. 
 
 " Ah ! Never ! never ! " she answered, suddenly serious. 
 " My poor child-lover ! how could I leave you while you 
 needed me ? " 
 
 " And I shall always need you," he said. " Without 
 you I am nothing ! " She smiled tenderly, yet in her 
 heart she wearied because, she being always the stronger 
 one in all relations of life, she would have loved to be 
 weak ; she was too strong to rest, and she knew it would 
 be so infinitely restful to be weak sometimes.
 
 THE KING'S VISION 209 
 
 " The shadows grow, dear ray lord," she said. " We 
 must ride back to Prague. Already the dew is falling. 
 See ! " And lifting her green velvet riding-skirt a little, 
 she showed him how its hem was wet and how the silver 
 braid glittered with the dew. 
 
 They returned to the pavilion, and the huntsman in 
 attendance blew a shrill blast upon his horn to summon 
 the ladies and their gallants back from their wanderings. 
 Like a flight of birds of gay plumage the ladies hurried 
 back to the Star Palace. 
 
 " Back to Prague already ? " cried my Lady Phyllis ; 
 " but, madame, 'tis mighty pleasant here ! " 
 
 " The dew is falling, my lady ; 'tis high time we were on 
 the road," said Amalia Solms primly, though she, too, had 
 been making merry and her fair, heavy face was aglow 
 with laughter. 
 
 " One more draught of sack, mesdames ! " called the King 
 gaily. "A stirrup-cup to sustain us on the ride homeward." 
 
 " Let us go up to the western turret and see how beauti- 
 ful the White Mountain looks in the red glow of the setting 
 sun ! " cried my young Lord of Bustehrad. 
 
 " Well said, my lord ! " laughed Elizabeth Stuart. 
 " Come ! we will see this pretty sight while the lackeys 
 prepare the goblets for our stirrup-cup." 
 
 The whole company trooped up the broad, shallow steps 
 to the first floor of the pavilion. Here the western win- 
 dows glittered like fiery jewels in the glory of the sunset. 
 From below came the lilt of a song which the French 
 minstrels had struck up as envoi to this gay feast. 
 
 " A galliard ! A galliard ! " called the Queen. " Tell 
 them to play us a galliard tune ; we will have one dance 
 ere the sun sets ! " Young Thurn hurried to give the 
 order to the musicians, and right merrily the melody rang 
 out. In the rosy light of the dying sun the gems flashed as 
 the ladies bowed and pirouetted. It was a graceful throng 
 of happy youths and maidens, clad almost alike in green 
 velvet and silver braiding. They seemed a troupe of play- 
 actors personating the Hunter's Dance at some masquerade. 
 There was much laughter, much light jesting.
 
 210 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart only trod a short measure and then 
 retired from the dance. She leaned against the carven 
 pillar of the open fireplace and watched the dancers, call- 
 ing to them gaily not to be so quickly weary, or to dance 
 more swiftly. Presently the King, too, disengaged himself 
 from the dancing company. 
 
 " The night falls apace," he said to the Queen. " We 
 must soon end your impromptu ball, ma mie." In truth, 
 the sun's glow was fading and the casement-panes gleamed 
 golden instead of ruby red. 
 
 The King went to the window and stood silent. Sud- 
 denly Elizabeth heard him utter a stifled cry. In an 
 instant she was beside him. 
 
 " What ails you ? Friedrich ? why did you cry out?" 
 she said ; but he made no answer, his eyes were fixed, as 
 if in horror, on the silent ridge of the White Mountain. 
 His cheek had grown deathly pale, and his white lips moved 
 as though he counted some advancing enemy. 
 
 " Friedrich Friedrich what is it ? " the Queen cried, 
 and caught his arm. 
 
 One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. The jig- 
 ging rhythm of the galliard rang on, and the swish of 
 skirts, the quick sound of dancing feet beat time merrily. 
 
 " Friedrich beloved ! What ails thee ? " she cried 
 again. Now with shaking finger he pointed at the 
 deserted hill-land, lying dreaming there in the last rays 
 of the dying sun. 
 
 " They fly ! one all ! like madmen throwing their 
 muskets away there the men-at-arms see ! Ah ! the 
 riders all all " 
 
 " Friedrich ! thou art mad ! Oh ! for the dear God's 
 sake, stop the galliard ! " she called wildly. " Cease ! Do 
 you not see that the King is ill ? " But the dancers did 
 not hear her ; they were full of their own mirth, and the 
 music and the laughter drowned the Queen's voice ; only 
 Amalia Solms, who had fallen out of the galliard Amalia 
 Solms, faithful and inquisitive came to her side. 
 
 " What has befallen madame ? What is " she began, 
 but her sentence trailed away before the anguish in the
 
 THE KING'S VISION 211 
 
 King's face. He stood, like one bereft of reason, pointing 
 at the silent, deserted country. 
 
 " More they fly ! The banners are thrown down the 
 horses struggle God in heaven ! not one company stead- 
 fast ! Yes yes! one company fights they are coming 
 hither, to the Star Palace ! Oh ! merciful Jesu ! they are 
 trampled down " the words came haltingly from his 
 blanched lips, yet he told of this horror as one who, watch- 
 ing from a tower, sees a battle deployed before him. 
 
 Ever faster rang out the tripping measure of the gal- 
 liard. The Queen leaned beside the King, gazing through 
 the casement into the gathering gloom, at that still hill- 
 land, where she perceived nothing save the infinite calm 
 of the ending of a summer's day but where he saw this 
 terrible vision of a degraded army flying in craven panic. 
 
 The galliard ended with a triumph of brisk chords from 
 the stringed instruments, and the dancers, laughing and 
 breathless, made their final bows. Then seeing the King 
 and Queen at the window they gathered round. 
 
 " How good a thought 'twas of your Majesty's to have 
 us dance the galliard ! " cried Mistress Alison. 
 
 " Indeed, 'twas best of all this bright day ! " said my 
 Lady Phyllis. " But, madame ! " she added anxiously, as 
 the Queen turned to her with blanched cheeks and 
 anguished eyes, " what ails your Majesty ? " 
 
 " Nothing, child," said Elizabeth Stuart, seeing curious 
 looks on all the faces around her, " I am right well, but 
 the King has had a dizzy fit. Open the window, Amalia, 
 and forgive me, my friends, but I think 'twere kinder 
 an you left us alone for a while. A moment's quiet will 
 restore his Majesty." There was much dignity in Elizabeth 
 Stuart's mien just then commanding, courteous, calm ; 
 though her voice was a trifle unsteady and her bosom 
 rose and fell as if she had been running. 
 
 The courtiers withdrew silently, only Amalia Solms 
 lingered. " I pray you, if you love me, friend," the Queen 
 whispered, " say no word of this. The King was giddy 
 from the heat, that is all." Amalia bowed her head and 
 went out.
 
 212 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 The King still stood motionless, gazing into the deepen- 
 ing twilight. Amalia Solms had pushed open one side of 
 the window, and a cool breath of air wafted in the frag- 
 rance of the summer evening. 
 
 " Friedrich," said the Queen in a low voice, " you have 
 dreamed an ugly dream. It is some fantasy of an over- 
 wrought brain. You are weary, beloved, and have 
 dreamed." She laid her arm round him, and leaned her 
 cheek against his shoulder. 
 
 " I saw it God in heaven ! You would not have me 
 think myself mad ? I tell you I saw my army in full 
 flight ! " he said hoarsely. 
 
 " God gave prophetic illumination to His saints of old," 
 she answered ; " He sends no miraculous visions to man 
 to-day. No, you are not mad," she even laughed a little, 
 though she was trembling, " I saw what you saw " 
 
 " You saw it too, then ? " he cried. " Ah ! thank God ! " 
 
 " Hush," she said soothingly, " I saw a mighty black 
 cloud over the White Mountain, and on the bare hill those 
 few stunted trees, which, in the half-light, look like hurry- 
 ing figures Friedrich, there was nothing else ! Believe 
 me. Ah ! dearling, when have I ever spoken untruth to 
 you ? " 
 
 " What did I see, then ? " he asked, like a wondering 
 child willing to be consoled, a child who is pathetically 
 eager to have the spectre which frightened it shown to be 
 but a foolish delusion. 
 
 " You are weary overwrought with working at State 
 matters, and your own mind tricked you out a seeming 
 vision. From a cloud and a few stunted trees you made 
 a flying army. Look again the cloud is still there, and 
 the twisted trees on the gaunt hillside." The King 
 gazed out. 
 
 " Yes," he said slowly, " I see it was nothing I have 
 dreamed ! " 
 
 She led him away down the broad winding staircase to 
 the central hall where the courtiers waited with anxious 
 faces. 
 
 " The King is well again ! " Elizabeth cried gaily.
 
 THE KING'S VISION 213 
 
 " 'Twas nothing, only a moment's dizziness from the heat. 
 And now the stirrup cup ; I pledge you all ! Health and 
 happiness!" She took the golden goblet, proffered by 
 Thurn on bended knee. 
 
 " Health and happiness ! " she cried again, " and I 
 drink to our next galliard in the Star Palace." 
 
 Right merrily they rode back to Prague. Never had 
 the King been more debonnair, more gay and full of jest 
 and laughter, and Elizabeth Stuart had never seemed 
 more carelessly happy. Once she turned in her saddle 
 and looked back. A red glow as of blood seemed to 
 lurk behind the gathering blue of night over the Star 
 Palace. 
 
 " A wild sky," she said lightly. " Strange that after so 
 bright a day the evening -should hold so fierce a menace. 
 Methinks it is our last ride to the Star Palace for a 
 time." 
 
 That night brought riders to Prague, the one a bearer 
 of despatches from Germany, the other a messenger from 
 France. The German letters informed the King that the 
 Princes of the Protestant Union, hearing that Bethlem 
 Gabor had concluded an armistice with the Emperor, had 
 signed at Ulm a treaty with Maximilian of Bavaria, the 
 head of the Catholic League. By this treaty the Pro- 
 testant Princes undertook neither to oppose the Imperial 
 army in Germany, nor to aid the rebellion against the 
 Emperor in Bohemia. In return Maximilian promised that 
 the Imperial troops would respect the neutrality of these 
 Protestant rulers' domains, including the Palatinate. The 
 same messenger, however, brought the news that Spinola 
 and his twenty-five thousand Spaniards had commenced 
 hostilities in the Palatinate, and were marching on 
 Heidelberg. 
 
 The French messenger brought a letter from Louis XIII. 
 wherein Friedrich's preferred alliance was answered by 
 the assurance of the French monarch's friendly feelings 
 towards him and his family, but that his Majesty declared 
 himself unable to espouse a cause so closely allied to that 
 of the turbulent French Huguenots. He promised to send
 
 214 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 an embassy to Austria to endeavour to effect a recon- 
 ciliation between the Emperor and the Bohemian King. 
 In case of the failure of this negotiation he owned himself 
 bound by State expediency to assist the Emperor in the 
 war. 
 
 King Friedrich of Bohemia, thus forsaken by his 
 brethren of the Union and by his Hungarian ally, and 
 thus politely refused by France, stood alone before the 
 giant powers of Europe ; but he was still buoyed up by 
 the careless confidence of youthful inexperience, and he 
 faced calmly a situation which might well have inspired 
 terror and despair in any man, however brave, who had 
 realised the overwhelming strength of the forces arraigned 
 against him. Friedrich relied upon his army, that army 
 which he had never hitherto inspected, that unpaid, ill- 
 armed, semi- mutinous, half-starved conglomeration of 
 soldiery, captained by inexperienced leaders. 
 
 Thus it fell out that on the day after the merry- 
 makings at the Star Palace, King Friedrich set forth to 
 join his troops in Southern Bohemia. In the excitement 
 and exhilaration of enterprise, applauded by the woman 
 he loved for his warlike enthusiasm, he forgot the grim 
 warning of that vision on the White Mountain. 
 
 The menace of that wild sky which had lowered over 
 the Star Palace was fulfilled, and day after day rain fell 
 in torrents over Prague. The Moldau, swelled to angry, 
 turbid grandeur, rushed, a frothy, yellow stream beneath 
 the slate-like uniformity of gloom in the sullen heavens. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart set herself to wait. In her gilded 
 parlour in the Hradcany she sat hour after hour before 
 her embroidery frame, she wrote many loving letters to 
 her King, she read, she played with Jacky the monkey. 
 Her ladies grew weary and dispirited. Dulness is hard 
 to bear when we are young; but the Queen remained 
 resolute in her cheerfulness in spite of physical heaviness, 
 for she was again enceinte. 
 
 The King wrote that he deemed it fortunate he had 
 joined his army so promptly, for he had found dissension
 
 THE KING'S VISION 215 
 
 and disorder which, of course, he doubted not he could put 
 right immediately. The generals themselves were dis- 
 satisfied, but chiefly each complained of the undue ad- 
 vancement in rank which had been accorded to his 
 compeers. Mansfeld, still sulking in Pilsen, had sent a 
 request which was practically an insolent demand to be 
 named Field-marshal. Thurn claimed that as he had led 
 the army for many months he could not be called by a 
 lesser title than Mansfeld, and certainly he refused to be 
 subordinate to Hohenlohe, who also was created Field- 
 marshal. Solms considered that his dignity forbade him 
 to be second in command under Mansfeld, even though 
 the latter, in point of fact, being mewed up in Pilsen took 
 no part in the operations of the main army. Old Christian 
 of Anhalt stormed and raged and quoted at length every 
 writer on military tactics, but this did not mend matters. 
 The King solved the question with the greatest ease. He 
 made Mansfeld, Thurn, Schlick, Hohenlohe, Solms, all 
 General Field-marshals, and gave them absolute command 
 over their troops, of course, all under old Christian of 
 Anhalt, coinmander-in-chief. 
 
 On paper the Bohemian army was indeed formidable, 
 and counted over twenty-one thousand men ; but such 
 small accidents as the death of several hundred soldiers 
 from disease, or the casualties arising from a dozen 
 skirmishes, had not been noted for many months and 
 this for a most excellent reason ; for, as each general drew 
 from Prague the payment per head for his soldiers, it was 
 natural that the absence, by death or desertion, of a 
 soldier was a substantial pecuniary gain for the general. 
 Also every commander drew double, and sometimes triple 
 and quadruple pay, for one and the same man was often 
 general of an army corps, colonel of a regiment, and captain 
 of a company. 
 
 Old Anhalt, honest and incapable, full of long speeches 
 on the theory of warfare, thoroughly versed in the writings 
 of military strategians, was helpless before this embroglio ; 
 and when, in the councils of war, the generals quarreled 
 and abused each other, the old Duke only added to the
 
 216 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 uproar by thundering commands for obedience and order. 
 Christel of Anhalt and several of the younger men, seeing 
 the hopelessness of achieving universal order in this unruly 
 army, had laboured only to perfect their own regiments. 
 And the sight of these few well armed, carefully trained 
 troops again inspired the King with confidence. Like the 
 inexperienced stage-manager of a company of unprofes- 
 sional playactors, he believed that the mistakes of the 
 rehearsal would vanish automatically when the real drama 
 was played. 
 
 Yet he wrote to implore the Queen to seek a surer 
 refuge than Prague. Warfare was a strange, capricious 
 playmate, and he would fain know his beloved to be far 
 off from any possible danger. 
 
 Over the tedious life at the Hradcany this warning 
 lowered like another cloud. What ! was there danger 
 as well as dulness ? the ladies cried, but Elizabeth Stuart 
 silenced them with proud words. If they feared danger 
 let them begone; she, for her part, would remain in 
 Prague. All had been well and would be well. 
 
 They came and told the Queen that the people in the 
 city were beginning to murmur. They said that there 
 was anxiety, nay, fear in the Hradcdny Palace. It was 
 whispered that the Queen was preparing for flight. Ah ! 
 where had vanished the gay doings, the masquerades, and 
 dancing, they asked mockingly ? The Queen was stricken 
 with terror ; they had heard it from the lackeys ; all the 
 town knew it. 
 
 " I ! stricken with terror ? God's life ! they know me 
 ill ! " cried the Queen ; and her ladies remembered how 
 it had been said that the dauntless spirit of Elizabeth of 
 England often flashed up in the manner of her god -child 
 Elizabeth Stuart. 
 
 So once more the Hradcany rang with the merry strains 
 of the galliard and the pavyn, and, albeit there were few 
 gallants to take part in the figures, the ladies danced to- 
 gether and gaiety seemed to have returned to the Bohemian 
 Court. Of course, the citizens professed themselves dis- 
 gusted at such levity, when battle and pillage were so
 
 THE KING'S VISION 217 
 
 near, but unwittingly they were reassured thereby, for if 
 the Queen was thus confident, surely there could be no 
 grave cause for anxiety. 
 
 Then a rumour spread in Prague that Prince Hal had 
 been secretly conveyed away. She feared for her child, 
 then, this Queen who feared naught for herself ? There was 
 tumult in the city, and a mob surged up to the castle gates. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart bid the guards let in the crowd. She 
 met them alone, unguarded save by her bevy of ladies ; 
 and standing beneath the portico of the Emperor's build- 
 ing, she lifted the baby Rupert in her arms to show them 
 that she had not feared for him. Then she made a 
 Bohemian gentleman translate these words : " The Queen 
 bids you be of good cheer ; for, though she does not keep 
 all her jewels in one casket, yet she must have every con- 
 fidence in the safety of that treasury where she trusts this 
 dear jewel of hers." 
 
 She made a grand picture standing there beneath the 
 sculptured stone portico. She wore no hat ; there were 
 pearls and diamonds in her auburn hair. Her gown, as 
 usual, was of viol-brown satin, her filmy lace ruff framed 
 her delicate proud face with the haunting Stuart smile on 
 the fresh lips and in the great sombre eyes. 
 
 The rabble shouted in the enthusiasm which her proud, 
 fearless beauty inspired, shouted until the baby Rupert, 
 affrighted, raised a wailing cry. Then the Queen kissed 
 him, and laughing, drew back into the Palace. And the 
 rabble returned to the Old Town roaring songs of loyalty. 
 
 "Wait!" said the Domherren, gliding among them. 
 " She has never crossed the Karls Bridge again. There 
 are no more bathers to disgust her ; the only one is the 
 Naked Bather on the Cross. Him she will not pass ! 
 Perchance she will yet be driven by the Imperial troops 
 over the bridge." 
 
 Sullenly the populace waited through the dreary, wet 
 autumn days. For the Czech, like most Slavs, is a being 
 at once fiery and apathetic. He can be stirred to a very 
 flame of effort, be delirious with enthusiasm, and then 
 suddenly he will sink into a condition of hopeless despair,
 
 218 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 a state of mind wherein he will nurse his melancholy and 
 enjoy it. He is a man full of poetry, idealistic as a young 
 girl, fantastic, enthusiastic yet sensuous, ease-loving, 
 fatalistic, unstable, capable of a sudden indifference which 
 he masks to his own vision by his poetic melancholy, ex- 
 cusing his changes of mood by haunting suspicions which 
 he has not the energy to dispel by investigation. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart mistook the apathy of the Praguers ; 
 she believed their indifference to be calm steadfastness, 
 and she wrote to the King that their citizens were quiet, 
 confident, arid loyal. Nevertheless, she ordered the con- 
 tinuance of such gaieties as were possible in that Court 
 bereft of gallants, for she deemed that hereby the people's 
 sense of security would be maintained. 
 
 In spite of these seeming gaieties the cloud of anxiety 
 in the Hradcdny Palace grew darker, and, though her 
 Majesty professed to be confident in the Bohemian 
 army's ultimate success, the relentless advance of the 
 Imperial forces into Bohemia made even her brave heart 
 quail with apprehension. True, it was known that in 
 the Imperial army there reigned discord between the 
 Generals Maximilian of Bavaria and Bucquoi ; also that 
 the invaders were constantly delayed by the tardy arrival 
 of the provision carts from Austria and Bavaria. Further 
 came the good news that the greater number of the 
 courtiers who had followed Maximilian from Bavaria, 
 finding the prevalence of illness and the discomfort of 
 camp-life little to their taste, had withdrawn from their 
 Duke's side and had returned to Munich. But all this, 
 though of course agreeable hearing for the Court of 
 Prague, did not hinder the inexorable forward march of 
 the allied army. Budweis had capitulated with astound- 
 ing alacrity; seven thousand men were marching across the 
 Bohemian Forest from Bavaria to reinforce Maximilian ; 
 three thousand fresh troops were reported to be on the 
 way from Wurzburg to join the invaders, the Elector of 
 Saxony held Lusatia ; and from Poland reinforcements 
 were hurrying to the Imperialists. Alas ! the invading 
 host was like a river fed by a hundred streams, gathering
 
 THE KING'S VISION 219 
 
 volume as it rolled irresistibly onward, whereas the 
 Bohemian army was a stagnant lake into which no fresh 
 water flowed. 
 
 Then came tidings that Mansfeld was in treasonable 
 communication with Duke Maximilian ; it was whispered 
 that a hundred thousand florins had changed hands 
 and that Mansfeld would remain neutral in Pilsen. 
 
 Passionately her Majesty cried out she did not credit 
 such villainy, but the brave words died on her lips when she 
 remembered how Mansfeld had always appeared to her a 
 harbinger of ill-omen ; already on that night in Heidel- 
 berg when she had seen him slink into the castle, it had 
 seemed to her that there was some menace to her life's 
 joy in this misshapen, sturdy, sombre condottiere. 
 
 Mansfeld explained his conduct to the King. He pre- 
 tended that his apparent treason was but a ruse to gain 
 time. Fiercely old Anhalt demanded the dismissal of the 
 dishonest adventurer and the substitution of another 
 leader for the Pilsen division; yet Mansfeld succeeded in 
 convincing Friedrich, who believed that personal animosity 
 prompted Anhalt. 
 
 Slowly but inexorably the Imperial army swept on- 
 wards. The small township of Pisek was taken, neither 
 man, woman, nor child was spared ; unutterable horrors 
 were perpetrated ; like demons the mercenary soldiers 
 rioted in a very fury of blood-lust, rejoicing in the 
 ghastly shambles they had made of the little city. The 
 Cossacks, as the people called the Poles, were matched in 
 their delirium of cruelty by the raging of Bucquoi's own 
 men. Steadily the Imperialists advanced. Then towards 
 the middle of October the Bohemians saw their country 
 covered by a vast white mantle. An early fall of snow 
 had come to their rescue. Surely the invaders would 
 retreat ; for, cut off from Bavaria and Austria by the deep 
 snowdrifts in the hills, they would not risk a winter of 
 starvation. For an instant even Maximilian wavered. 
 Bucquoi counselled retreat. 
 
 One night of sudden ram, and the snow vanished, 
 leaving sodden fields and dripping swamps, desolation
 
 220 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 and added misery for both armies. But there was 
 nothing now to hinder the invaders from their career of 
 rapine and devastation, nothing save the Bohemian army. 
 
 There had been many skirmishes, sometimes won by the 
 Imperialists, sometimes by the Bohemians, but no actual 
 battle had taken place. The commanders of both armies 
 hung back, advanced, avoided each other, deployed, in 
 fact amused themselves by showing off what experienced 
 strategians they all were according to the rules of theoretic 
 warfare. The Bohemian generals believed that the Im- 
 perialists meant to continue this dilatory game, and it 
 was only towards the end of October when the entire 
 enemy, raising camp, commenced forced marches towards 
 Prague, that Christian of Anhalt and King Friedrich 
 realised Maximilian's intention. Promptly the Bohemians 
 drew together, and succeeded in blocking the invader's 
 way. A decisive battle seemed imminent. The Bohe- 
 mians held Rakonitz and a long rise of wooded ground, a 
 splendid position offering little inducement for the 
 Bavarians to attack. Nevertheless they stormed the hill, 
 but were easily repulsed and fled in disorder. 
 
 The following day a heavy mist prevented either army 
 from taking action ; but on the 30th of October, the mist 
 having cleared, a sharp engagement took place, and as 
 Christian of Anhalt considered his possession of the hill 
 unimportant, the Bohemians retreated in good order to- 
 wards Prague, and took up a commanding position on the 
 rise of a wooded slope. 
 
 In the Imperial camp it was recognised that their 
 enemy, though they could claim no victory, had at least 
 scored a strategic success by succeeding in retreating to 
 so strong a position. Bucquoi had been severely wounded 
 during a reconnoitring expedition ; also the provision- wag- 
 gons from the south not having arrived, it was determined 
 to abandon the projected immediate advance on Prague. 
 
 It was now that King Friedrich resolved upon return- 
 ing to the Hradcany Palace for a few days. The enemy 
 seemed paralysed by indecision ; the Bohemian army was 
 in a dominant position ; all was well and would be well.
 
 THE KING'S VISION 221 
 
 He had heard that Ambassadors from James of England 
 had arrived in Prague, and he had not seen Elizabeth 
 Stuart for over two months. 
 
 There was rejoicing and gaiety in the Hradcany Palace, 
 the King brought a train of young gallants with him, and 
 once more merriment reigned supreme. Yet her Majesty 
 regretted the absence of Ritter Christel, of young Thurn, 
 and Magnus of Wirtemberg. : 
 
 " They could not leave their companies, dearling," the 
 King said. 
 
 " Is there danger, then ? " she cried. " If we are indeed 
 threatened, why are you here, dear my lord ? " 
 
 " Nay, there is no risk," he answered. " The enemy 
 has been repulsed. Bucquoi will make a feint of attack, 
 and according to his custom, and the usage of warfare, 
 he will then retreat into a well-ordered camp for the 
 winter. By the spring all will be arranged peacefully, and 
 we will summon Master De Caus to make our gardens 
 fair ! Your Christel, Thurn, and the rest of your Majesty's 
 mighty army of devout lovers shall return, and we will 
 have a merry Court." 
 
 They were standing together at the window of the 
 Queen's withdrawing-room, overlooking the Stag Park. 
 The swallows flew and circled in the still air, uttering 
 their sharp, quick notes. Below clustered the roofs of 
 palaces and burghers' dwellings, and deep in the valley 
 the Moldau surged in sullen grandeur. The sun had 
 won through the clouds for an hour, and had gilded the 
 old town in the distance to the likeness of a magic city. 
 
 "It seems as though the clouds were banished from 
 us," the Queen said ; " you have brought back sunshine 
 with you, Friedrich. Ah ! I was weary of the o'er- 
 darkened days ! " 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " our time of anxiety is almost 
 past the enemy will melt away before our army like the 
 clouds before the sunrays. Kiss me, dear heart ! " he 
 whispered. " Ah ! life is full of happiness, and the future 
 is like a radiant dream to me ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAIN 
 
 " Dreimal unselig Volk, dein Leid 
 
 Bewegt kein Herz mehr, dass es weine. 
 
 Es ist ein Leid aus alter Zeit 
 
 Und gleicht bemoostem Leichensteine. 
 
 Ruhmlos zieht durch die Welt dein Gram." 
 
 IT was Saturday night, the 7th of November. The 
 moon shone white and wan over the drenched hill- 
 land where lay the Bohemian army. A sudden 
 advance of the Imperial forces had made Maximilian of 
 Bavaria's intent clear to old Christian of Anhalt ; he had 
 at length realised that the Imperialists were bent upon 
 pushing forward to Prague itself. By forced marches the 
 Bohemians had succeeded in outreaching the enemy. By 
 detours over rough, marshy ground, and through dense 
 fir-woods, Duke Christian had led his men, outskirting 
 the Imperialists, who marched on the main road direct 
 towards Prague. Now the two armies faced each other, 
 the Bohemians on the crest of the White Mountain, the 
 enemy below in the valley. Duke Christian had scored 
 another strategic success, for not only had the Bohemians 
 the advantage of their position on the higher ground, but 
 the small river, the Scharka, with its surrounding swamps, 
 formed a natural barrier between them and the Imperi- 
 alists. But the Bohemian soldiers, badly fed, ill paid, 
 meagrely clothed, insufficiently armed, were worn out by 
 the fatigue of those two days and nights of strenuous 
 advance, and on this Saturday night they slept like dead 
 men beneath the moonlight. The camp-fires burnt low ; 
 the sentries moved wearily on their beats ; damp, chill 
 mists rose from the valley where fitfully the enemy's fires 
 twinkled. 
 
 222
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAIN 223 
 
 Not six miles away the King made merry in Prague 
 not six miles, and yet the city was absolutely cut off from 
 the army. A messenger whom Duke Christian had sent 
 imploring for ammunition, for clothing for the shivering 
 soldiery, and for fresh rations, had returned saying that 
 it was almost impossible to win through the disorder of 
 the baggage column which had been sent on to seek 
 safety nearer Prague. The city gates were closed. 
 
 The night wore on. That abiding terror, the expecta- 
 tion of a sudden onslaught of yelling hordes of Cossacks, 
 had not come to disturb the deathlike stillness of the 
 Bohemian camp. The weary outposts saw the first faint 
 lightening of the sky, and the dawn came grey and cold, 
 shrouded in a thick mist. Perhaps the armies were 
 doomed to another day of inaction, bound by the all- 
 pervading mist as by a giant, paralysing hand. God 
 alone knew what the men had suffered before they had 
 begun their desperate march, when they had waited not 
 knowing what that dense, opaque veil hid from them, not 
 knowing how near death lurked unseen. 
 
 But this agony was spared the armies, for on that 
 Sunday morning, November 8th, towards nine of the 
 clock, a light breeze sprang up and the mist lifted. 
 Immediately there was a stirring in the camp in the 
 valley. A squadron of cavalry advanced and occupied a 
 hillock at the foot of the long sweep of the White Moun- 
 tain. Instantly the Bohemian cannon thundered forth a 
 warning; but it was little more than a menace, for the 
 shots flew harmless over the enemy. Destiny willed that 
 Christian should make no further use of this strategic 
 mistake of the enemy. The cavalry on the hillock could 
 easily have been cut off from the Imperial army, their 
 advance having been too rapid ; yet Christian, though he 
 caused his cannon to play upon the hillock, did not seize 
 the opportunity of annihilating the squadron, and the 
 Bavarian General Tilly was able to bring up troops to 
 stop the gap between the advanced guard and the main 
 army. 
 
 The Bohemians were posted in two lines reaching from
 
 224 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the south-west towards the wooded park of the Star Palace 
 on the north-east. The Hungarian cavalry, that semi- 
 barbarous troop upon which the Bohemians counted to 
 oppose the Cossacks l of the Imperial forces, was placed 
 behind the left wing beyond the range of the enemy's 
 guns, for though the Hungarians were capable of carrying 
 all before them in a furious charge, they were so gun-shy 
 that it was useless to order them to stand steadfast if the 
 enemy's cannon played on them while they waited the 
 signal to charge. The Bohemian army was thus drawn 
 up ready for battle. 
 
 The Bavarian corps now advanced to cross the river 
 Scharka, over which there was but one narrow bridge. 
 They were impeded by the deep swamps, and a certain 
 disorder reigned. The main army under Bucquoi, as 
 usual, hung back, and thus there was a good opportunity 
 for the Bohemians to sweep down from their higher 
 ground and divide the enemy's forces. 
 
 Old Anhalt and Field-Marshal Hohenlohe stood to- 
 gether. They both held large parchment sheets, and were 
 deep in a discussion concerning the strategic necessity 
 of this or that tactical movement, which they illustrated 
 by means of the well-drawn plans on the parchments. 
 Count Schlick and a Colonel^von Stubenvoll rode up to 
 the field-marshals. 
 
 " Sir ! " cried Stubenvoll, " give me leave to charge 
 with my cavalry ! I see a sure way to victory ! If we 
 can separate the Bavarian army corps from Bucquoi's 
 men, the day is ours ! " 
 
 Anhalt hesitated. He glanced at the diagrams on the 
 parchment. 
 
 " There is no time to be lost ! " cried Schlick eagerly. 
 
 " Gentlemen, your plan is good. On, then, and cut off 
 the enemy's advanced guard," said Duke Christian. He 
 was doubtless an incompetent commander, but he was a 
 brave man, and the dashing Moravian Stubenvoll's ardour 
 appealed to him. 
 
 " Gently, gently ! my lord," cried Hohenlohe. " I, too, 
 
 1 The popular name for the Polish riders.
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAIN 225 
 
 am Field-Marshal of this army. I, too, have a word to 
 say ! You are for ever counselling attack ! Attack ! 
 attack ! and abandon this commanding position ! If this 
 charge is made, our men will be cut off from us. We 
 shall be forced to advance to their rescue, then we shall 
 be in the valley. See, my lord ! Here on paper I can 
 show you " 
 
 " There is no time, my lord. I pray you give me the 
 command to charge," urged Stubenvoll anxiously. 
 
 " Be silent ! You do not understand tactics," growled 
 Hohenlohe. 
 
 " Have I permission ? Duke of Anhalt ! Give the 
 word ! Soon it will be too late ! " cried Stubenvoll im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " In truth, it would be contrary to the teaching of 
 Mendoza, the greatest of the Spanish military writers. 
 No, do not charge ; I cannot give the order," Anhalt 
 answered slowly. Stubenvoll turned away. 
 
 " The day is lost," he said sadly. 
 
 The Bohemian guns thundered on harmlessly, filling 
 the air with smoke and stench. The battle had but com- 
 menced, and it was noon. 
 
 The Imperial advanced guard stormed the hill, easily 
 avoiding the ill-directed fire of the Bohemian cannon. 
 
 " Too fast," muttered Anhalt ; " they will break into dis- 
 order when they reach the summit ! Bucquoi will recall 
 them ; a good tactician will never attack under such un- 
 favourable conditions. This is only a feint." He glanced 
 along his own lines. A formidable foe certainly serried 
 rank upon serried rank of pikemen, arquebusiers, cavalry. 
 
 But the Imperialists did not fall into disarray. They 
 reached the high ground and promptly ranged into line, 
 while behind them two Walloon regiments advanced and 
 formed up in good order. 
 
 Now Solms' Palatine regiment, along with Bubna's 
 Czechish cavalry, charged. Their first onslaught was 
 successful; the Imperial advanced guard, spent by the 
 rapid ascent of the steep slope, fell back in some confusion,
 
 226 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 and for an instant the Walloons also wavered. Without 
 hesitation four German squadrons, under General Tiefen- 
 bach, rode from the valley to reinforce the leading troops. 
 On the Bohemian side Bubna's Czechs made a second 
 charge, which was quickly repulsed. Anhalt immediately 
 commanded the Thurn infantry to attack. This regiment, 
 some thirteen hundred strong, and composed of the veterans 
 of the Bohemian forces, was regarded as the pattern for the 
 entire army. They advanced steadily to within two hun- 
 dred paces of the enemy, then, like a gust of wind rippling 
 through a wheat-field, sudden panic ran from line to line 
 and they halted one man turned another fifteen a 
 hundred. Throwing away their muskets they fled wildly, 
 knocking down the soldiers behind them. A few fired 
 aimlessly in the air, or over their shoulders ; then, caught 
 by the contagion of fear, the whole regiment joined the 
 stream of fugitives. The only men killed were those 
 struck by stray bullets or trampled down by their own 
 comrades. The enemy had remained immovable. 
 
 Seeing his most trusted warriors flying without strik- 
 ing a blow, Anhalt stood aghast, hardly believing the 
 evidence of his own eyes. The whole left wing of the 
 Bohemian army was in confusion, and the battlefield 
 seemed peopled with a mass of frantic, struggling, flying 
 figures. Anhalt's own regiment, six companies of cavalry, 
 remained intact. He commanded them to charge, and 
 they commenced their advance without hesitation ; but 
 wheeling round suddenly, they broke line, fell into disorder, 
 and fled without attacking the enemy. Anhalt galloped 
 after some of the deserters : " Back, you cowards ! " he 
 cried furiously. " Back ! or I shoot you like the mad 
 dogs which you are ! " But the fugitives paid no heed, 
 each man seemed only bent upon outstripping his com- 
 rades in the race from the battlefield. 
 
 Bubna's cavalry had been thrown into confusion by the 
 flight of Thurn's infantry. Desperately the officers en- 
 deavoured to reform the broken lines, but the rearing and 
 struggling horses were beyond their terror-stricken riders' 
 control. A few hundred soldiers obeyed the command to
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAIN 227 
 
 charge, but finding themselves immediately involved in 
 the stampede of the Anhalt regiment they, too, turned and 
 fled. In their rush they galloped into two companies of 
 the King's Guard and a troop of Bohemian cavalry. The 
 former were thrown into confusion and dispersed ; while 
 the latter, infected by the panic, joined the headlong 
 race off the battlefield. 
 
 The infantry of the second line, under young Thurn, 
 flung themselves into the melde, but were routed with 
 severe loss. Hohenlohe's and Kaplir's regiments were 
 ordered to advance. During several months these troops 
 had shown signs of insubordination, even of open mutiny. 
 They now made a half-hearted movement forward, then, 
 throwing their weapons in the air, they fled without firing 
 a shot. The left wing of the Protestant army was de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 The battle had lasted but one half-hour, and it seemed 
 already lost to the Bohemians. The enemy was in full 
 pursuit of the fugitives, and the dastards were reaping 
 the reward of their cowardice, for the Imperialists mas- 
 sacred them like a herd of defenceless sheep. 
 
 Then the tide turned. Young Christian of Anhalt, who 
 had stood waiting for the command to advance, could bear 
 the inaction of obedience no longer, and at the head of his 
 six hundred mounted arquebusiers he charged the pursuers 
 impetuously. The Imperial bugles rang out, the pursuers 
 and as many troops as could be recalled from the mele'e, 
 formed up into line and faced Christel's men, who, after 
 their charge, had quickly returned and had also fallen into 
 line. They opened a steady fire upon the Imperialists, 
 volley after volley, with such good effect that the enemy 
 retreated, leaving a ghastly row of writhing wounded and 
 of dead men to testify to the Bohemians' prowess. A cry 
 went up : " Victory ! The Papists run 1 " 
 
 A detachment of Spanish Horse thundered up the hill 
 and attacked Christel's arquebusiers, but they were re- 
 pulsed, and, torrent-like, the arquebusiers burst through 
 the wavering Spaniards and fell upon the left infantry 
 square of the Imperial first line. It was a furious hand-
 
 228 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 to-hand combat. The Bohemians, despite their in- 
 ferior numbers, excited to dauntless valour by Chris- 
 tel's example, drove back the Imperial infantry, broke 
 through their ranks, scattered them, and put them to 
 flight. Bohemian reinforcements poured down to Christel's 
 aid, and at this moment the Hungarians appeared on the 
 hill's crest ready to charge. The whole Imperial division 
 raised a cry that all was lost, and in an instant they were 
 flying as wildly as the Bohemians had run a few minutes 
 before. 
 
 The shouting of the Bohemian army : " Victory ! 
 Victory ! " added to the terrible clamour of the battle ; 
 the squeals of the wounded horses ; the thick sobs of the 
 dying, choking out their last breath through the bloody 
 foam at their stiffening lips ; the groans of the wounded, 
 the clash of arms, the rumble of cannon, and the cracks of 
 the pistol shots. 
 
 Suddenly, dominating all this horror of sound, came 
 the deafening howl of the Cossacks who swept into the 
 melee, trampling the wounded, spurning the dead, like a 
 horde let loose from hell itself. The Hungarians on the 
 hill, without waiting for the Cossacks to get up to them, 
 turned and fled, the enemy upon their heels. The Cos- 
 sacks caught up, not only the Hungarians, but also the 
 fugitive Kaplir infantry, and mowed them down as though 
 they had been blades of grass reaped by a scythe. 
 
 Christel gathered his troopers together and attacked 
 again and again. Wherever the fight was thickest the 
 Imperialists saw that slight figure on the chestnut charger, 
 that boyish face with the radiant blue eyes which held 
 a glint of steel despite their almost childlike candour; 
 wherever the danger was fiercest they saw that glittering 
 helmet with the azure ribbon which Elizabeth Stuart had 
 given to her Hitter Christel six years since at the Heidel- 
 berg tourney. Already his left arm hung limp and use- 
 less at his side, and he guided his horse with the pressure 
 of his knees ; already his breastplate was smeared with his 
 blood, and the blue scarf across it was stained and torn. 
 His horse, too, was bleeding from a dozen gashes, but
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAIN 229 
 
 Christel's voice fell sweetly on the brave beast's hearing. 
 Tenderly, in the midst of this horror, he spoke : " Come 
 friend, courage ! On ! " and the horse gave that answer 
 which is grander than the speech of man; the answer 
 which is an animal's devotion and obedience to him he 
 loves. 
 
 " On ! comrades ! Men of Anhalt, on ! For the honour 
 of Bohemia ! " Christel called, and the Imperialists around 
 him, six men to each one of his, thundered back the 
 war-cry of the Catholic forces : " Maria ! Maria ! " Mary, 
 the blessed Mother of God, they called ; and, in truth, 
 Christel's battle-cry was also an invocation to the saint 
 his soul adored, for when he cried, " On ! for the honour 
 of Bohemia ! " sure he meant " For the honour of Eliza- 
 beth Stuart." Perchance the Mother of God smiled 
 down from heaven on him, knowing that a man who 
 loves a woman thus purely, gives a perfect homage to 
 the Queen of all womanhood. 
 
 Desperately he fought, and faithfully his men followed 
 him. Then there came a puff of smoke close to him, 
 and he made a despairing gesture with his dripping 
 sword. Once more, but faintly, he cried : " On on 
 for the honour " and swayed in his saddle. An arque- 
 busier tried to hold him up, but he sank limply back- 
 wards. With a smile, which told how his thoughts were 
 far from that scene of carnage, his head fell back, and, 
 his lips still whispering weakly : " For Bohemia and 
 the Queen -" he fell to the bloodstained earth. 
 
 A flood of fresh troops Walloons, Spaniards, Aus- 
 trians, Neapolitans, Bavarians charged impetuously, and 
 Christel's men were trampled under. The battle was 
 lost, as far as the left Bohemian wing and the centre 
 were concerned. There still remained a portion of the 
 right wing, which had only been desultorily engaged by 
 the Bavarian division of the Imperial army. The White 
 Mountain rose steeply on the north-west, and here the 
 Bohemian cannon had effectually hindered the enemy's 
 advance ; but now the Bavarians, having succeeded in 
 scaling the hill, attacked the right wing, while the
 
 230 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Walloons and Spaniards from the eastward threatened 
 the left division of the Bohemian centre. Here the 
 Bohemians faced the Imperialists coolly, and both ranks 
 of combatants formed up in good order. The Bohemians 
 attacked in the ancient mode of the caracole, which 
 means that they advanced at a hand-gallop, and, riding 
 along the enemy's foremost rank, discharged their pistols 
 at close range. It was the usual attacking method of 
 the warfare of a hundred years earlier, but it was useless 
 before the weapons of the day. Many caracolers were 
 shot down by the Imperialists' well-directed fire, a number 
 were unhorsed and taken prisoner, while the rest galloped 
 away in confusion. 
 
 The remaining Hungarians posted near the wall of 
 the Star Palace, seeing the Bohemian right wing thus 
 in disorder, left the field without striking a blow. Old 
 Christian of Anhalt and sixteen gentlemen found them- 
 selves cut off by the stream of fugitives from the few 
 Bohemian regiments which stood steadfast near the 
 wall of the Star Palace Park, while the enemy drew 
 dangerously near. Duke Christian turned his horse 
 towards Prague. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said brokenly, " the day is lost ! 
 Let us ride to guard the King. God in heaven! we 
 must bid him escape before it is too late." With bowed 
 head the aged commander rode off the battlefield. 
 
 The day was indeed lost, but there still remained a 
 company of gallant men awaiting death in the Star 
 Palace. Here, where but three months since Elizabeth 
 Stuart had danced the galliard, and, where the tapestries 
 still decked the walls beneath the delicate designs of the 
 Renaissance frieze, five hundred gentlemen of the King's 
 Guard under Duke William of Weimar were preparing 
 to sell their lives dearly. King Friedrich's own banner 
 was in their keeping, and no one should say that they 
 had failed in their sacred trust. In the narrow space 
 between the outer wall and the pavilion they planted the 
 great yellow velvet standard emblazoned with that green 
 cross which symbolised hope for the Protestant cause.
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAIN 231 
 
 Gathering round their commander, they awaited the 
 Imperialists' onslaught. Brave men they were, for the 
 most part young Bohemian nobles who had made merry 
 in the Star Palace here when Elizabeth Stuart had 
 held her Court of laughter and gaiety, and here they 
 were to die. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the Guard ! " cried William of Weimar, 
 " I would we had a cup of sack wherein to pledge her 
 Majesty this day ! We have no wine, so let us salute 
 the Queen with our swords we shall die the easier for 
 having paid her our last homage ! " With a whirr of 
 steel the swords flashed from the scabbards. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! " cried the Prince again, " the Queen ! " 
 and five hundred men stood motionless at the salute as 
 light-hearted, as debonnair and smiling, as though they 
 had stood before Elizabeth Stuart, queen of revelry at 
 some gay tourney. 
 
 " To your posts ! " called Duke William, and they 
 took their appointed places around the walls. They 
 saw how the enemy overwhelmed the few regiments 
 beyond in the park. The stand was feeble ; but who 
 could blame a handful of troops if they quailed before 
 the attack of ten thousand better armed adversaries ? 
 Yet until then a little flame of hope had flickered in 
 each heart in the Star Palace. 
 
 Furiously the Neapolitans stormed the outer wall ; in 
 vain the troopers of the King's Guard behind the walls 
 shot them down with unerring aim, for each dead man 
 three living avengers sprang forward. They scaled the 
 walls, the first comers to instant death ; but alas ! how 
 can five hundred men resist many thousands ? 
 
 " Into the palace ! Save the King's standard ! " roared 
 Duke William. Frantically they rushed back with the 
 yellow flag held high. They were in the palace they 
 managed to dash the heavy oaken door shut scarce 
 two hundred of them ; the rest were dead, wounded, or 
 shut out. 
 
 There came a lull in the deafening noise. 
 
 " Are they retreating ? " queried Duke William, as he
 
 232 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 leaned breathless against the tapestries of the centre hall. 
 He was bleeding from brow and shoulder. 
 
 "They are moving the dead from before the door; 
 they lie there ten deep a pretty rampart ! " some one 
 said. It was well spoken, for now the shouts redoubled, 
 and there came a storm of clanking blows, and with a 
 mighty crash the door fell in. 
 
 " On to meet them ! We will die like gentlemen, 
 not like rats in a blocked water-pipe ! " cried Duke 
 William. 
 
 With a shout which re-echoed through the vaulted 
 halls of the palace a different music, God knows ! to 
 the galliard's lilt which had been the last sound to ring 
 through the Star Palace the King's Guard charged. 
 
 The Neapolitans, mad with rage at the death of their 
 comrades, fell upon them fiercely. Man after man was 
 cut down ; the floor was slippery with blood, and both 
 Bohemians and Neapolitans, losing their footing, fell 
 rolling and fighting like animals in that slime of gore. 
 A steady stream of Imperialists, Neapolitans, and 
 Spaniards poured into the palace and finished the 
 work of carnage. 
 
 Still the King's standard was held aloft. As one man 
 fell, another grasped it and held it high. Of a sudden 
 a bugle shrilled through the Star Palace, and a well- 
 ordered troop of Bavarians shouldered their way into 
 the hall. 
 
 " Hold ! hi the Emperor's name ! Maximilian of 
 Bavaria gives quarter to gallant men ! " 
 
 The Neapolitans and Spaniards sullenly withdrew from 
 the fray. 
 
 " We ask no quarter, sir ! " said William of Weimar 
 proudly. 
 
 " We are not butchers, gentlemen," returned the 
 Bavarian captain. " You are ten wounded men against 
 many thousands. In all honour I declare you to be my 
 prisoners of war ! " 
 
 It was useless alas ! who could fight against such 
 odds ? With a sob Duke William staggered back.
 
 THE WHITE MOUNTAIN 233 
 
 " The King's banner is captured," he said, and fell 
 senseless at the Bavarian's feet. 
 
 Thus ended the battle of the White Mountain a 
 name of bitter humiliation to Bohemia. And yet, 
 methinks, the fame of the valour of a few brave men 
 should live for ever, shining like a star in the darkness 
 of shame, cowardice, and defeat of that day of doom.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 FLIGHT 
 
 KING FRIEDRICH of Bohemia sat at the State 
 Banquet in the Hall of Homage. Through the 
 tall diamond-paned windows the grey light of 
 the autumn day fell dimly, but many flambeaux in the 
 heavy silver wall-sconces flared brightly, and on the long 
 banqueting-board a hundred candles lit the stone hall to 
 a warm glow, and flashed on the glittering jewels, on the 
 sheen of silks and satins of the ladies' dresses, on the rich 
 hues of the gallants' tunics, ablaze, too, with the jewelled 
 insignia of high orders. The yellow stone walls of the 
 great hall, mellowed by the wise hand of time, made an 
 harmonious background for the picture of the gaily clad 
 throng. It was a scene of stately splendour, for Friedrich 
 had wished to show James of England's Ambassadors 
 that a King of Bohemia could vie in magnificence with 
 Whitehall, nay, with the Louvre itself; and he had 
 prayed his courtiers to don their finest doublets, and the 
 ladies to array themselves in their richest rebatoes, far- 
 dingales, and gowns. 
 
 The King sat at the centre of the long table, her 
 Majesty on his right, and the two English Ambassadors, 
 one at his left and the other on her Majesty's right. 
 Then followed in their rank the highest in the land my 
 Lord of Michaelowitz, my Lord Count of Thurn, the Count 
 of Lobkowitz, and other Bohemian gentlemen ; but a good 
 number were with the army, and though laughter and 
 music abounded, Elizabeth Stuart sighed when she missed 
 many familiar faces. Count Schomberg was not there. 
 He had craved her Majesty's leave to volunteer for a few 
 months' service with the army, and she had bidden him 
 do his will, deeming that perhaps the excitement of 
 
 234
 
 FLIGHT 235 
 
 camp-life might turn his thoughts from their sadness, for 
 Schomberg had grown old, grey, and broken since Mistress 
 Anne's death, and the years had but served to confirm his 
 sorrow into settled melancholy. He had refused high 
 military rank, and had taken service in one of the King's 
 Companies. 
 
 The Queen looked down the long table. Yes, she 
 missed Christel's boyish face ; she felt a pang when she 
 did not see old Schlick's mournful brown eyes and 
 pointed beard a la mode du feu Roi Henri IV., and seeing 
 Bernard Thurn was not there she grieved an instant, for 
 he had grown to be a true friend during this last year in 
 Bohemia. Humorously she reflected that whoever was 
 missing from her surroundings Scultetus was never 
 absent. She glanced at his sallow face; she had never 
 liked the Calvinist since that day long ago when he 
 had interrupted her moonlight reverie on the terrace at 
 Heidelberg. Next to the preacher was seated Camerarius 
 the secretary, a punctilious, tiresome personage whom she 
 had vowed smelled of ink ! Beside them was Doctor 
 Jansenius, a famed scholar, who had helped to draw up 
 the manifestoes concerning the legal and historical rights 
 of the Bohemians to choose their King, which Friedrich 
 had caused to be printed and distributed over Europe. 
 Elizabeth Stuart sighed ah ! well, that form of weari- 
 ness was nearly over; Friedrich was secure enough in 
 Bohemia ; and it was the opinion of the best authorities 
 on warfare that Maximilian of Bavaria and Bucquoi would 
 soon retreat into a winter camp without giving battle, 
 and by the spring everything would have been quietly 
 settled by the diplomatists. 
 
 The King rose, and all the assembly stood respect- 
 fully. " My honoured guests," he said, " I pray you drink 
 to long life and prosperity to my revered father, King 
 James of England ! " 
 
 As he spoke a loud booming shook the windows of 
 the Hall of Homage. Every one paused with their glasses 
 half-way to their lips, and each gazed at his neighbour in 
 dismay. Could it be that Prague was attacked ?
 
 236 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Sir Edward Conway ! Sir Richard Western ! " cried 
 Friedrich, " I drink to you, and my cannon proclaims 
 that in honouring you I pay a regal tribute to your 
 sovereign, my royal father, King James ! " He bowed to 
 the Ambassadors. The toast was drunk solemnly and 
 the banquet proceeded, perhaps all the more gaily for 
 the relief which the guests felt. That sudden roar of 
 cannon had struck terror to their hearts, but no one 
 owned even to themselves how fearful a thought had 
 risen in their minds. 
 
 " Sir Richard," said the Queen, " I doubt not you feared 
 the enemy was upon us ? Fie ! sir, your cheek is still 
 white and your hand trembles." 
 
 " Nay, madame," the Ambassador answered, " I was 
 but startled by the tintamarre. Seeing your Highness so 
 calm and secure, who could harbour anxiety ? " Elizabeth 
 glanced at him. 
 
 " I see, sir, that you, too, are under orders to stint me 
 of my title as Queen ! " She laughed. " Well, well, it 
 cannot be long ere all the world will own my dear lord 
 to be a King. Yet, on rny life, I am little pleased with 
 mine old friend Sir Henry Wotton. What think you of 
 the absurdity of addressing King Friedrich as ' my 
 honoured Prince the crowned Elector ' ? Yet so are 
 superscribed Wotton's letters out of Vienna ! " 
 
 " Ah ! madame, we have a hard task love is divorced 
 from his liege mistress, Duty, in this matter," returned 
 Weston cautiously. 
 
 " In other words, you love us well but must obey my 
 father ? " she said lightly. " Tut, sir, old Wotton sends 
 me graceful verses wherein he calls me Queen, and refuses 
 me my right in letters, and, as I hear, in speech ! " 
 
 " As a poet Sir Henry Wotton proclaims your Highness 
 Queen ; as a statesman " began Weston. 
 
 <; Ah ! I am weary of it ; quibbles and words ! " she 
 broke in quickly. " My beloved lord is King, and he has 
 crowned me Queen, that's the fact ; and calling us crowned 
 Electors is a mockery of logic." 
 
 " Pardon us, madame, we are but poor envoys bound
 
 FLIGHT 237 
 
 to obey him who has sent us," Weston answered 
 humbly. 
 
 They fell to talking of other matters of Sir Francis 
 Bacon's measures to promote the manufacture of gold 
 and silver thread in England, which Elizabeth declared 
 to be of profound importance to every lady who wore 
 embroidered velvets; of the Spanish match for the 
 Prince of Wales; how Weston had heard in Brussels, 
 always ringing with Spanish court bruits, that the fifteen- 
 year-old Prince Philip of Asturias would actually com- 
 mence his married life with the French Princess Isabel 
 this November ; how Calderon, the writer, still languished 
 in a Spanish dungeon ; of how Louis XIII. of France and 
 his mother, Marie de Medici, were quarreling as usual. 
 In fact all the trivial light talk which makes life a weari- 
 ness at Court. 
 
 " Surely the salutes should be over by now ? " in- 
 terrupted Elizabeth Stuart ; " they sound distant and 
 faint, and yet there is a constant rumbling." She listened ; 
 but the laughter and music were loud around the banquet- 
 board, and for the moment it seemed as though the 
 rumbling sound had ceased. The King was deep in talk 
 with Sir Edward Conway, and he paid no heed to Elizabeth 
 when she asked why the salutes had been so prolonged. 
 
 "Yes, I have splendid schemes for the garden here; 
 and I have arranged for several painters to journey to 
 Prague. I wish Rubens to paint the story of Protes- 
 tantism with her Majesty and myself as the central 
 figures," he was saying, as a man bent and whispered in 
 his ear. " How now, sir ? I cannot hear speak out, 
 man ! " the King cried impatiently. The intruder was a 
 captain of one of his Majesty's Companies on guard at the 
 Hradcany Palace. 
 
 " Your Majesty," said the man in a low voice, " a peasant 
 has just come in from the village of Oberlibotz. He says 
 that your Majesty's horse upon the outflanks of the enemy 
 do skirmish. There hath been the sound of continuous 
 firing this last hour." The King paled. 
 
 " Is it more than a skirmish ? " he said anxiously.
 
 238 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Nay, sire, the peasant could not tell me ; but he 
 said " 
 
 " What is amiss ? " broke in Elizabeth Stuart. " Fried- 
 rich, why is your cheek so pale ? Are there evil tidings ? " 
 On his arm she laid her hand, that nervous, Stuart hand, 
 with the long, pointed, sensitive fingers that seemed so 
 delicate that one thought they must tremble; and yet they 
 were steady, even strong. 
 
 " What has occurred ? Tell me ! " she added, turning 
 to the captain as Friedrich hesitated. 
 
 " There is a skirmishing on the White Mountain, 
 madame," he answered, " and the cannon plays ! " 
 
 " Skirmishing ? " she said calmly. " Sir, you have all 
 cried so often that the wolf is devouring the sheep, that 
 I do not credit it. Raise the banquet, my lord; 'tis likely 
 of no account, but you had best ride out and see. Do not 
 tell our guests; there need be no foolish noise of dismay." 
 The King rose. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! " he called, " the feast is ended; let us pro- 
 ceed to the German Hall." A silence fell on the company for 
 an instant there was no sound of booming cannon without. 
 The King offered his hand to her Majesty and paced down 
 the long Hall of Homage. Once more the storm of voices 
 of a large assembly echoed through the vaulted arches, 
 and the musicians struck up a merry melody. The King 
 and Queen had nearly reached the door, when a loud voice 
 was heard without, and Duke Christian of Anhalt stood on 
 the threshold. His grey hair was matted with sweat, his 
 eyes were wild and bloodshot, his breastplate was tarnished, 
 and he was bespattered from head to foot with a horrible 
 mire red with blood. 
 
 " The day is lost, sire ! " he cried hoarsely. " The enemy 
 will be on us in an hour ! Fly while there is time ! " He 
 swayed a little and leaned against the doorpost. 
 
 " Lost ! through cowardice ! " he groaned, and passed 
 a shaking hand across his brow. 
 
 " Has there been a battle, then ? " asked Friedrich 
 stupidly. Old Anhalt nodded. 
 
 " Lost ! " he muttered, with his hand covering his eyes.
 
 FLIGHT 239 
 
 " Give wine to my Lord of Anhalt ! " commanded 
 Elizabeth Stuart. " He faints from weariness." No one 
 moved. The whole company seemed stunned by this 
 sudden disaster. 
 
 " Phyllis, pour wine into a goblet and give it to Anhalt," 
 commanded the Queen. " These fools have parted from 
 their senses, and that poor old man is near to swooning." 
 My Lady Phyllis brought the wine. Elizabeth took the 
 goblet and held it out to Duke Christian. 
 
 " Drink, my friend. You shall tell us your sorry history 
 when you are refreshed." The old man drank a few drops 
 gulpingly. 
 
 " Madame," he said, and two great tears rolled down his 
 weather-beaten cheeks, " alas ! that I have failed you ! 
 Fly, for the dear God's sake ! " 
 
 Now a wild horror seized the company, and a babel of 
 voices arose. " The enemy ! the Cossacks ! they will 
 put us to death ! they will massacre us ! where is our 
 army ? Destroyed ! Alas ! fly, fly the Cossacks ! " 
 
 Desperately men ran hither and thither, some to the 
 windows, peering anxiously through the diamond panes as 
 though they expected to see the dreaded Cossacks riding 
 up to the Palace, some to fetch their pistols lying on the 
 table of the smaller hall. The women, weeping, clung to 
 each other. Only Elizabeth Stuart and her Englishwomen 
 remained calm ; Amalia Solms was yattering with terror. 
 
 " Madame, let us hide in the cellars ! The Cossacks 
 will ravage us," she wailed. The Queen turned on her 
 furiously. 
 
 " Recall your senses ! Are you a serving- wench ? Must 
 you yowl like a cur ? God ! I thought you'd good blood 
 in your veins ! " she cried. " Come, let us go and collect 
 what clothes we need. If we have to fly we must have 
 other raiment than a satin skirt and an embroidered 
 fardingale ! " 
 
 "You always insult me, madame," began the Solms, 
 drying her eyes and drawing herself up. 
 
 " Praise be to insult if it makes you behave like a lady 
 of quality ! " said Elizabeth Stuart bluntly. She led the
 
 240 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 way through the long corridors to her own apartments 
 Here the quiet was like balm after the uproar in the Hall 
 of Homage. Elizabeth Stuart gave her orders as if she 
 were preparing for a day's hunting. 
 
 " Give me the green velvet riding-gown ; yes, the 
 warmer one. Now my plain hat with the diamond 
 buckle ; nay, not one with a feather. Phyllis, help the 
 Lady of Solms to gather my jewels together. Alison, 
 go bid the nursewoman prepare Rupert for a journey to 
 a neighbouring castle. Do not tell her ought, save that 
 the King wishes us to leave the Hradcany, or she will lose 
 her wits with fear. There, give me Jacky's coat poor 
 one ! " she said, catching the little monkey up, " I will 
 never fail you." Her calmness gave confidence to her 
 ladies, and they did her bidding promptly. 
 
 A hurried knock came on the door and a page ran in. 
 
 " Madame, the King has ordered the caresses immedi- 
 ately," he began, but paused in surprise as a man pushed 
 past him roughly. It was Master Scultetus. 
 
 " The King has ridden out to the Strahow Gate ! " 
 he cried. " He bids your Majesty fly to the Old City 
 at once. The coaches will be in the courtyard ; I will 
 take charge of you, will escort you to the other side 
 of the river. Your Majesty must not wait for the King's 
 return." 
 
 " Until his Majesty is with me, I shall not leave the 
 palace," the Queen answered haughtily. 
 
 "It is the King's command," began the Calvinist. 
 
 " When the King is not here, I command, sir," she re- 
 turned, and flung back her head with her accustomed 
 proud gesture. 
 
 The noise of running and a confused murmur of voices 
 fell on their hearing, and a crowd of waiting-women 
 rushed into the Queen's apartments. 
 
 " Save us you brought us here, the Cossacks are upon 
 the town ! " they sobbed ; they were the German tiring- 
 women and underlings who had accompanied her Majesty 
 from Heidelberg. 
 
 " We have seen the Cossacks running through the
 
 FLIGHT 241 
 
 streets ! Save us ! You brought us to Prague ! " they 
 moaned. 
 
 " You have seen the Cossacks ? " queried her Majesty. 
 Even her cheek blanched at this, for all knew the horrors 
 wrought by the Polish soldiery. 
 
 " Madame, fly ere it is too late," urged Scultetus. 
 
 " I have told you, sir, that I await the King," she said 
 proudly ; " or news of him," she added a little tremulously. 
 Now the whole palace echoed with cries and sobs ; men 
 and women rushed through the corridors crying the word 
 " Cossacks ! " Everywhere was panic, confusion, and 
 useless haste. Elizabeth Stuart felt how alone she was 
 among this distracted crowd. Alas ! why had she given 
 Schomberg permission to leave her ? He had always 
 stood between her and the difficulties of a great house- 
 hold. 
 
 " At least await the King in the courtyard porch," 
 urged Scultetus. " The coaches are there, and, when his 
 Majesty returns, you can ride away immediately." 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart looked round her room. She had 
 spent many a happy hour here during her year in 
 Bohemia. Should she ever again see this room with 
 the gilded mirrors, the large, tapestry-hung bed where 
 Rupert had been born, the splendid Renaissance mould- 
 ings on wall and ceiling ? Yet, after all, if she left 
 Prague for ever it could be but to return to Heidelberg. 
 
 " Madame ! madame, I pray you hasten ! " Scultetus' 
 harsh voice broke in on her pondering. 
 
 " There is enough haste in the world already," she an- 
 swered, but, clasping her monkey in her arms, she passed 
 out into the corridor. Here the waiting-women were 
 huddled together, weeping and wailing. 
 
 " Save us ! " they cried when they saw the Queen. 
 
 " Come, then, and if I am saved you will be rescued 
 too," she said kindly. Together they took their way 
 through the maze of corridors to the porch of the second 
 courtyard. 
 
 It was an unwonted group, like to some fantastic 
 finale to a comic mask the Queen and her ladies
 
 242 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 in riding-gowns, the serving-maids, tiring-women, her 
 Majesty's laundresses, the German scullery- wenches, 
 velvets and jewels beside homespun cloth, coarse aprons, 
 and linen caps. Master Scultetus, sombre and unsightly 
 in his long black gown and skull-cap, was there ; and 
 one or two courtiers richly attired as they had left the 
 State banquet, a few young pages in velvet tunics, lackeys 
 in full gala livery, and cooks in white overalls. The 
 courtyard was full of coaches : here was a baggage-waggon 
 which sumptermen were piling up with furniture, bed- 
 hangings, and linen ; there was a cart which Master Came- 
 rarius and his clerks were filling with State documents. 
 
 For some time these proceedings continued undis- 
 turbed, and a measure of calm returned to the waiting 
 crowd. One or two women hurried away to fetch their 
 cloaks, lackeys ran to bring some of her Majesty's coffers 
 which a few tiring-women, taking courage now, remem- 
 bered to pack. The Queen sat on the guards' bench 
 with her monkey clasped in her arms, while beside her 
 the nurse-woman swayed, hushing the baby Prince to 
 sleep. With trembling lips the woman hummed a 
 lullaby, prompted by that magnificent instinct which 
 teaches women to know how battle, murder, and grim 
 death may riot near, but that the babies must sleep 
 whate'er befalls. 
 
 There came the clatter of horses' hoofs, and a dozen 
 riders dashed into the courtyard. 
 
 The Queen advanced to the porch. " Friedrich ! " she 
 said, and the word thrilled from her lips like a cry of 
 joy ; for despite courage, pride, and calmness she had 
 agonised while the King was away. Her fancy had 
 painted half-a-hundred pictures wherein he, whom she 
 loved more with the sheltering tenderness of a mother 
 than with the love of a woman, lay bleeding, suffering, 
 slain perchance. Now one glance at his face was 
 sufficient to tell her that disaster had come to them, 
 and immediately her courage rose ready to meet what- 
 ever fate held in store. The King dismounted and hurried 
 to her.
 
 FLIGHT 243 
 
 " All is lost," he said dully ; " the whole army is in 
 flight. I found a rabble of our men battering at the 
 Strahow Gate, praying for admittance. Schlick was there, 
 and Hohenlohe. I ordered the gates to be opened, and 
 they were borne in among an ugly rush of fugitives. 
 They say that a number of Hungarians have entered 
 through some breach in the walls ; many have tried to 
 ford the river beyond the ramparts ; hundreds are 
 drowned ! " He bowed his head, and stood bent and 
 broken as an old man. 
 
 " Will you not defend the town ? " she cried. 
 
 " Useless, useless," he muttered ; " there is treachery ! 
 The enemy is upon us we must fly ! " Those nearest 
 the King among the listening crowd heard him say the 
 words, " The enemy is upon us," and instantly a shriek of 
 terror and a wild tumult arose. " Fly ! fly ! the Cossacks ! " 
 Men and women rushed helter-skelter across the court- 
 yard. Scultetus' harsh voice was heard even above the 
 din: 
 
 "The coaches! To the coaches! Hasten!" The 
 Queen was almost pushed into the first coach, her ladies 
 after her. 
 
 " Put the nurse-woman here beside me ! Give Rupert 
 to me ! " she cried. 
 
 " No time, they can follow in the second coach ! " called 
 Friedrich. "Drive on! Hasten! To the Old Town, across 
 the Karl's Bridge." He mounted his horse, ranged up 
 beside her Majesty's coach, and the cavalcade started at 
 a hand-gallop. A frenzy seized those left in the court- 
 yard, and the coaches were besieged by crowds of sobbing, 
 clamouring women. 
 
 In the porch a courtier, who had kept a remnant of 
 self-control, heard a wailing cry at his feet, and saw a 
 bundle of fine linen and flimsy laces lying beneath the 
 guards' bench. 
 
 " God in heaven ! The little Prince ! " the courtier 
 cried, and, seizing the bundle, he shouldered roughly 
 through the crowd to the nearest coach. 
 
 " Give way ! " he thundered. " Here is a more precious
 
 244 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 burden than such as you ! " He struck out fiercely, even 
 drew his sword. " Here ! you woman, whoever you may 
 be, take the child to the Old Town ! " he cried, and flung 
 the infant into the arms of a kitchen- wench who was 
 seated in a gilded carosse where the highest in the land 
 were wont to ride. Before the driver could whip up the 
 rearing, frightened horses a woman flung herself on to the 
 coach-step. 
 
 " Give me my baby ! " she yelled, and, clambering into 
 the coach, snatched Prince .Rupert from the astonished 
 kitchen-wench. Once more the instinct of the nurse 
 had conquered terror, and the babe was safe in the 
 arms of the craven who, in her panic, would have left 
 him to be trampled to death. 
 
 Swaying and jolting, coach after coach drove away 
 from the Hradcany Palace. Soldiers of the King's 
 Company galloped through the cobble-stoned yard ; 
 sumptermen and pack-horses and baggage-waggons ; 
 serving-maids and henchmen, bakers, embroiderers, 
 shoemakers, furriers a motley crowd joined in the 
 hurrying stream which poured in mad confusion down 
 the hill towards the Old Town. 
 
 In that surging crowd it was no easy matter to drive 
 quickly. The whole of Prague was gathered on the 
 Queen's route ; shouts and cries filled the air. Here was 
 a bearded soldier telling his own version of the battle to a 
 group of eager burghers ; here a peasant from one of the 
 villages near the White Mountain was being questioned by 
 a throng of half inquisitive, half terror-stricken citizens ; 
 Jews, artisans, workmen, soldiers, market-women. It was 
 a dense mob, and though now and then a man would 
 doff his cap as the Queen passed, there was not wanting 
 in hostile cries, and even once or twice a stone thudded 
 against the leather curtain of her Majesty's travelling 
 coach. 
 
 At length the Karls Bridge was reached. Here the 
 crowd was even more closely packed, and the King and 
 his few courtiers reined in their horses, leaving the coach 
 to lead the way. Towards the centre of the bridge the
 
 FLIGHT 245 
 
 rabble was so thick that the coach perforce halted before 
 the stone crucifix. Here stood a thin-faced man in a 
 black cassock. He had climbed on to the stone balus- 
 trade, and, steadying himself by holding the base of 
 the cross with one hand, he stood with outstretched arm 
 pointing at her Majesty. A lull fell, all around desired 
 to hear what this man would say. 
 
 " Thou, who hast insulted the Christ, see now how swift 
 is God's vengeance ! " he cried loudly. " Thou, who didst 
 swear never to pass this bridge till this emblem of our 
 Faith was destroyed, see now, how thou art forced to fly 
 into exile ! The Christ is avenged ! " Furiously the King 
 drew his sword, and essayed to press his way through the 
 mob ; but rude hands were laid on his bridle, and his 
 horse was forced back on its haunches. By the time the 
 King had succeeded hi calming the terrified animal the 
 speaker had disappeared, swallowed up by the surging 
 crowd. Once during this harangue the Queen had made 
 a movement as though she would rise and deny this 
 accusation, but, though she had opened her lips to speak, 
 she had said no word. Denial was useless. Perhaps she 
 felt she had too true a story to tell ; none would believe 
 her ! An ominous, hostile roar went up, then came a 
 momentary lull, and some one shouted a Czechish sen- 
 tence which was greeted by a yell of coarse laughter. 
 
 With flushed cheeks, eyes ablaze with anger, and head 
 proudly erect, the Queen sat silent as her coach passed 
 over the Karls Bridge and into the narrow streets of the 
 Old Town of Prague. 
 
 In a citizen's house on the right bank of the Moldau 
 there was a company assembled. In a low ceilinged 
 chamber hung with ancient tapestries, and furnished with 
 heavy chairs, a massy centre table, and ancient carven 
 sideboards decked with silver cups and elaborately em- 
 blazoned glasses, a fire burned brightly on the wide hearth. 
 On the table and the sideboards, waxen candles, in heavy 
 silver candlesticks, shed a soft light on the anxious faces
 
 246 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 of the company. Outside, a rising gale moaned fitfully, 
 and the spasmodic gusts drove the raindrops sharply 
 against the panes of the small lattice windows. 
 
 King Friedrich was seated at the centre table before a 
 slender glass wherefrom arose the perfume of mulled wine, 
 but the King was not tempted by its fragrancy ; he pushed 
 away the glass, and, leaning his head upon his hand, 
 he stared moodily at the leaping flames on the hearth. 
 Elizabeth Stuart sat in a high-backed chair ; ever and 
 anon her strong white fingers drummed impatiently on the 
 wooden chair-arms. My Lady of Solms, my Lady Phyllis 
 Devereux, Mistress Alison Hay, Mistress Clovelly and 
 Mistress Stanley were grouped together near the window. 
 Master Scultetus, Duke Christian of Anhalt, my Lords of 
 Thurn, Hohenlohe, and Schlick, young Bernard Thurn and 
 several Czechish gentlemen sat round the table ; while 
 before the hearth the English ambassadors, Sir Richard 
 Weston and Sir Edward Conway, conversed in low tones 
 with Sir Francis Nethersole, the British agent to the 
 Protestant Union. 
 
 " My lord, I pray you not to counsel the King to tarry 
 in Prague," said Hohenlohe after a long pause. " The 
 day is lost ; the army is destroyed ; what will avail if the 
 King is taken prisoner ? " 
 
 " Perchance you are right," said Thurn musingly ; " yet, 
 if the Duke of Bavaria answers that he grants eight days' 
 armistice, could we not rally enough troops to defend the 
 city ? We could hold out for a few weeks' siege. Sir 
 Edward Conway, how long would you need to ride to 
 England, and return with enough English gold to buy off 
 Maximilian, or at least Messieurs de Tilly and Bucquoi ? " 
 Conway shook his head. 
 
 " Alas ! sir, I could but promise to return in twenty- 
 five days, although I would spare no effort ; yet I must 
 have a few days in England to arrange the collection of 
 so large a sum, and the King, my master, will require a 
 day or more to consider if he can vouch for this outlay," 
 he said doubtfully. 
 
 " Surely, no one can hesitate before emergency ! " cried
 
 FLIGHT 247 
 
 Anhalt. " Even King James " he paused and glanced 
 at the Queen. 
 
 " My lords," she said, " this is no time for negotiations ; 
 we must stand or fall by our own endeavour battle 
 alone against our foes or fly before them. My father will 
 not help ; later, perchance, he will send troops to sweep 
 Spinola from the Palatinate, but for Bohemia he will do 
 nothing. Am I right, gentlemen ? " she added to the 
 Englishmen. 
 
 " I fear your Maj your Highness is but too true a 
 prophet," returned Conway. 
 
 " Fly now at once, sire ! " Thurn exclaimed. " We 
 risk our heads by staying here ! Death and dishonour 
 only await us, and your Majesty's liberty is at stake." 
 
 " Monsieur mon pere ! death may be in store, but can 
 dishonour approach those who die for Bohemia ? " cried 
 Bernard Thurn hotly. " I pray you let me escort her 
 Majesty to Karlstein. I will guard her there for a year 
 if there is need, and, when we have re-won Bohemia, she 
 will return to her town of Prague." 
 
 " You speak a vain thing, my young sir ! " growled 
 Hohenlohe. " As a tactician I know how useless it is to 
 rally a disheartened army in the face of an overwhelming 
 organised force ! Flight is the only reasonable course. 
 Who gave you leave to meddle in the council of grown 
 men ? " he added, turning upon Bernard Thurn in that 
 access of fury which is bred by fear. 
 
 " We dally with words, my lord," answered the young 
 man boldly ; " the night has fallen and we have done 
 nought ! My commanders ! Give me leave to ride with 
 a flag of truce to Duke Maximilian and crave an eight 
 days' armistice ! At least that will give time for your 
 deliberations," he added with a hint of scorn in his voice. 
 
 " According to Mendoza's rule a flag of truce from a van- 
 quished foe can only mean surrender," said Anhalt slowly. 
 
 " And yet again, by the writings of the Dutch School 
 a parley may take place at any time without binding either 
 parties to any course of action," replied Hohenlohe. 
 
 " Ah ! sirs ! surely this is no time for written rules J "
 
 248 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 cried Elizabeth Stuart impatiently. " Let Bernard Thurn 
 go demand the truce, and then we shall know how long 
 we have to decide our plan of action." 
 
 " Sire, have I leave to ride to the enemy's camp ? " 
 said Bernard Thurn. The King nodded, and, turning 
 to Camerarius, he said: 
 
 " You had best write praying for an eight days' truce." 
 The secretary drew out of his pocket a scroll of parch- 
 ment and an inkhorn. Deftly he sharpened a quill, and, 
 leaning low over the table, began to write. Silence fell 
 on the company, broken only by the crackling of the fire, 
 the hurrying scud of the rain against the windows, the 
 moaning of the wind-gusts, and the scratch of the quill 
 as Camerarius embellished this missive of haste and 
 supplication with flourishes and initial letters. 
 
 When the document was finished, the King affixed to 
 it that " Fredericus Rex " which he had ne'er thought to 
 sign beneath so sorry a page of history. 
 
 " Take this missive to my cousin of Bavaria, Count 
 Bernard Thurn. Tell him I crave his kindness by reason 
 of our kinship," he said, with a touch of his usual grand- 
 iloquent pomposity. 
 
 " Tell him no such thing, my lord ! " broke in the Queen 
 impulsively; " say, rather, that we but crave his chivalrous 
 courtesy that we may fight him the better ! We ask no 
 kindness from our foes ; the King did not express himself 
 clearly ! " Bernard Thurn bent the knee before her. 
 
 " I would serve a man of such spirit to the death, 
 madarne," he said huskily, and went. 
 
 " Blessed undaunted lady ! " murmured Sir Edward 
 Conway. 
 
 Hour after hour dragged its leaden-footed way through 
 the night. The Queen's ladies had gone to rest; the 
 gentlemen's heads sank forward in drowsy weariness. 
 Often the citizen, who owned the house, came in and 
 threw fresh logs upon the glowing embers on the hearth, 
 snuffed a candle, brought new flagons of wine or more 
 meat and bread.
 
 FLIGHT 249 
 
 The Queen still sat in the high-backed chair, though 
 sometimes she rose stiffly and, going to the window, stared 
 out into the darkness. Once as she passed near the King 
 she touched him gently on the shoulder. He started, 
 and, catching her hand in both of his, gazed up at her 
 piteously. She glanced at the gentlemen ; some were 
 dozing uneasily, and those who were awake had averted 
 their eyes from this commune of stricken souls. Gently 
 she drew his head against her breast, and her hand 
 wandered over his hot brow. 
 
 " Darkness and sunshine take their turns on earth, 
 dear heart," she whispered ; " yet doth love remain un- 
 changed whate'er befalls." 
 
 " I have failed," he muttered brokenly ; " men will 
 mock me " 
 
 " Courage ! How often has failure been the prologue 
 to triumph ! We cannot be brought under fortune save 
 by owning misfortune. Oh ! dear heart, you are so strong, 
 and I am very weak ; help me now." It was the old 
 splendid falsehood whereby the strong woman seeks to 
 inspire strength in the weak man the grand untruth to 
 which only the strong dare stoop. The King sprang up 
 impetuously. " The Queen is very weary, my lords," he 
 cried ; " let us decide that, come what may, we stay in 
 Prague and fight to the last ! And now to sleep ! Let 
 me be summoned when my young Lord Thurn returns. 
 I give you tryst at sunrise, when we will take the proper 
 measures for our army." His burst of energy seemed to 
 recall the courage of those weary watchers, and from 
 despair they awoke to effort. 
 
 " We will stay and work out plans of defence ! " said 
 the elder Thurn. " We will have a good " The Queen 
 interrupted him. 
 
 " Think you that kings sleep while there is a battle to 
 be planned ? Nay, my lord ! Friedrich of Bohemia 
 works with you, and I, who am no skilled tactician, will 
 at least stay by to cheer you if I can." She resumed 
 her seat in the high-backed chair and silently watched 
 how Anhalt, Thurn, Hohenlohe, and the rest wrote com-
 
 250 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 mands, drew up manifestoes, manoeuvred on paper 
 with an army which lay slaughtered not two miles away, 
 or with disbanded troops of mutineers and deserters. 
 She knew full well that all this was futile, but she felt 
 that to the last it behoved the King to strive ; that his 
 only dignity lay in a semblance of courageous hope now 
 that all was lost. Yet it was not her way to underrate 
 the gravity of their plight. It was easy enough for 
 Thurn to bid them fly, but whither could they turn their 
 steps ? The Palatinate being entirely overrun by Spinola's 
 troops, the threatened city of Heidelberg would be no 
 safer a refuge than Prague. In any case it would be 
 impossible to win through the lines of the Imperial army 
 which blocked the road to the Palatinate. Their only 
 course was to pass through Silesia, and throw themselves 
 on the hospitality of George William of Brandenburg. 
 
 The gray dawn had long come, and still there was no 
 answer from Maximilian of Bavaria, but the occupation 
 had banished despair from the watchers' hearts. 
 
 Hurried steps came on the stairs, the door was flung 
 open, and Bernard Thurn stood on the threshold. 
 
 " Maximilian of Bavaria grants eight hours' armistice. 
 He bade me tell your Majesty that he is answerable to the 
 Emperor for the taking of the rebellious city of Prague," 
 he said hoarsely. " I have ridden as hard as I could, but 
 I was constantly held up by sentries or marauders ; it is 
 nigh upon five hours since the truce was granted ! Duke 
 Maximilian counted it from last midnight. It is long past 
 dawn now. I, too, pray your Majesties to fly ! There is 
 not a single regiment of your army ready to take the 
 field. We have four hundred men of the Guard who 
 were at the Hradcany, but that is all Bohemia's army." 
 The generals stared at one another in consternation. 
 Elizabeth Stuart rose. 
 
 " Are there tidings of Christian of Anhalt and of Count 
 Schomberg ? " she asked. 
 
 " Madame, the death of heroes calls for no sorrow," the 
 young man answered solemnly. She bowed her head
 
 FLIGHT 251 
 
 in silence for an instant, then in a low voice she 
 said: 
 
 " I would know where and how they died ? " 
 
 " Christel fell in the melee at the head of his men, 
 and Schomberg was cut down while he defended the 
 King's standard at the Star Palace," Bernard Thurn 
 said. With outstretched hands the Queen went to old 
 Anhalt. 
 
 " God comfort you," she whispered. The old man 
 bowed over her hand. 
 
 " Madame," he made answer, " he was the light of 
 mine eyes, but the day is lost and I have no time for 
 grieving now. There are enough years wherein to mourn 
 him." He turned away, and the Queen left him, knowing 
 that silence was the only tribute she could pay to his 
 pain. 
 
 " Order the coaches, Count Thurn," she said calmly. 
 " Whenever they are ready we will start for Silesia. All 
 the coaches, sir," she added. " I will not leave one terror- 
 stricken serving- wench to rue the day when she followed 
 Elizabeth Stuart to Bohemia." 
 
 The rain fell in torrents over Prague, and, despite 
 curiosity and anxiety, the streets were empty as the 
 King's cortege drove away. Through the slit in the 
 leather curtain of her carosse the Queen peered at those 
 gloomy, narrow streets. How different was this exit from 
 Prague to her sunlit entry but a short year since ! 
 
 When the cavalcade reached a wood beyond the city 
 where she had sometimes hunted, she bid her driver 
 pause, and leaning out of her carosse she gazed over the 
 town. She could see the turrets and cupolas, the spires 
 and towers of the Hradcany Palace ; but the mist fell like 
 a shroud over the White Mountain, where the pride of 
 Bohemia lay shattered for ever.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 HOLLAND 
 
 " Fille et femme de roy, sans biens et sans couronne, 
 Je suis de mon epoux le sort trop inhumain. 
 Sans en ctre attendri mon Pere m'abandonne, 
 Mais la Hollande m' ouvre et sa bourse et son sein." 
 
 IT was spring, and over Holland the clear skies smiled ; 
 the fields were radiant in their young green, and the 
 windmills turned lazily beneath the kiss of the soft 
 breeze. Quaintly the masts of ships and boat-sails rose, 
 seeming to glide through the fields themselves, for the 
 canals were hidden from view, deep enshrined between 
 their trim banks. 
 
 It seemed to Elizabeth Stuart that there was a likeness 
 to England in this peaceful Dutch land, something of the 
 same suavity in the air, something English in the brilliancy 
 of the green of grass and hedge, and in the neatness of the 
 village streets with the homely, square brick houses and 
 their shining, brass door-knockers. She thought they 
 resembled those villages near Combe, which she had so 
 often seen as a little maiden. After the o'er-darkened 
 days since her flight from Prague the Queen was very 
 ready to respond to the happy mood of the spring days, 
 for despite her undaunted cheerfulness she had fought a 
 desperate fight with sorrow and despair. The journey to 
 Breslau had been a grim trial, and she shuddered when 
 she remembered the gloom, the pouring rain, the deep 
 mud of the rutted roads then the chill of the reception 
 by the citizens of Breslau. Who wanted to honour a 
 fugitive King and Queen ? There was danger in harbour- 
 ing a Prince over whom the ban of the Empire hovered ; 
 the victorious Emperor's wrath would be meted out to 
 those who gave succour to his fallen foe. The Breslauers 
 had taught Elizabeth Stuart the first line in that lesson 
 of humiliation which it was ordained she should learn to 
 
 252
 
 HOLLAND 253 
 
 the last letter. They had given the fugitives shelter- 
 had even raised a large sum of money for them ; but they 
 had showed plainly that they would be rid of their un- 
 fortunate royal guests. Then George William of Branden- 
 burg, Friedrich's sister's spouse, had hung back in offering 
 hospitality ; he whom, in the happy days at Heidelberg, 
 she had judged so shrewdly, saying : " Our fond brother 
 sits eternally on a stile between two fields ; he could ne'er 
 be a foe save through fear for his own skin, but God grant 
 I may never need to depend on his friendship." He had 
 proved her bitterly right, for he had professed a dozen 
 reasons for refusing her shelter in Berlin ; had proffered 
 the gaunt, uninhabited Castle of Ciistrin, but at the same 
 time had advised her to refuse his generous offer, for 
 Ciistrin was unfurnished, unheated, unvictualled indeed 
 he had retracted his offer of Ciistrin. Then, when she had 
 set out from Breslau, deeming that when she arrived in 
 Berlin, out of common charity he could not refuse shelter 
 to a woman so near the agony of motherhood, she had been 
 stopped by his messengers, who avowed their master's re- 
 luctance to receive her nay, forbade her to journey farther 
 to Berlin or to Ciistrin. 
 
 Thus, on a bitter cold December night she had found 
 herself stranded on the country roads with no prospect of 
 finding refuge she, Elizabeth Stuart, Queen of Bohemia, 
 Electress Palatine, she, who bore a child beneath her heart ! 
 Like an outcast beggar-woman she had seen the lights 
 gleaming in a castle window, and, poor suppliant, she had 
 stood before the door of the Castle of Carolath and prayed 
 for shelter for one night. In this hour of her bitter need 
 she had found a friend Herr von Schonaich, Lord of 
 Carolath, had bidden her welcome, had bent the knee 
 before her, and prayed her honour his poor house. Many 
 days she had tarried in this honourable gentleman's castle ; 
 Schonaich was proud to brave the Emperor's wrath, proud 
 to offer loyal homage to the fallen sovereigns. God knows, 
 it was to cost him dear. At last George William of 
 Brandenburg had relented, and had opened the doors 
 of Ciistrin. Here, in gaunt rooms, where rats ran along 
 the broken wainscoting, she had camped, making what
 
 254 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 she could of comfort with her own tapestries and bed- 
 hangings, and buying scant victuals from the ill-stored 
 market of the small town. Her ladies had tended her 
 and answered her brave spirit by loyal cheerfulness. And 
 here but a few days after her arrival she had given birth 
 to a " large and goodly " son, whom she had caused to be 
 christened Maurice after the Prince of Orange. 
 
 O 
 
 " A soldier's name for my little one, I pray you," she 
 had cried from her tapestry-hung bed in that bare un- 
 lovely room. " He will have to seek his fortune by the 
 sword. Alack ! all I can give him is a soldier's name." 
 
 The gloom of Ciistrin had been lightened for Elizabeth 
 by the tidings that Christel of Anhalt, though sore 
 wounded and a prisoner in Vienna, was alive. He had 
 been found among a heap of dead on the battlefield 
 of the White Mountain, and had been dragged before 
 Bucquoi, who, most chivalrous of foes, had caused him to 
 be well tended and had entertained him honourably. 
 When she had heard this news it had been to Elizabeth 
 Stuart as if a stone were lifted from her heart, for not 
 only had she grieved for Christel, but it had seemed to 
 her that Destiny, striking thus near to her, was a sure 
 omen of impending doom for her and those she loved. 
 Thus, despite the dreariness of Ciistrin and the darkness 
 of the political horizon, her buoyant spirit had risen and 
 she had faced life once more, not alone with her accus- 
 tomed brave cheerfulness, but with a degree of real 
 confidence and gaiety. 
 
 George William's charity had been as short-lived as it 
 had been grudgingly given, and he had soon required his 
 guests to seek other hospitality. The infant Maurice 
 could be housed in Berlin if need be, he had generously 
 offered, but the mother and father this vagrant couple 
 must move on. 
 
 Wolfenbiittel had been the next stage, and here her 
 Majesty's aunt Elizabeth of Denmark, Duchess of Bruns- 
 wick, had given Elizabeth Stuart friendly welcome. At 
 first the Queen had declared she would not sojourn at 
 Wolfenbiittel; she did not choose to associate with Christian 
 of Brunswick, the mad Halberstadter ! She had vowed
 
 HOLLAND 255 
 
 lie was no fitting company for an honest woman, be she 
 Queen or maid. It was a whimsey of her Majesty's, but 
 she had long been full of scorn and anger against this 
 reprobate kinsman of hers. Even the King had laughed 
 at her for this. 
 
 " Dear heart, the Halberstadter is no worse than many 
 another gallant ! " he had said. 
 
 " I say he is, and I will not see him. That is enough ! " 
 she had answered ; and when Elizabeth Stuart spoke thus 
 vehemently it was best to acquiesce. But the pother had 
 been soon cleared up : Christian of Brunswick was not at 
 Wolfenbiittel, not even at Halberstadt ; he was somewhere 
 in the Netherlands commanding a troop of Maurice of 
 Orange's cavalry. So the days had passed peacefully 
 enough at Wolfenbiittel. 
 
 And now the King and Queen journeyed to the Hague 
 at the invitation of the States General and of the Stadt- 
 houder Maurice of Orange. They were greeted by the 
 Dutch as though they had been victors on a triumphal 
 progress. Everywhere great crowds applauded the Pro- 
 testant champions ; cannon thundered salutes to the fallen 
 monarch ; the estates voted goodly sums for his main- 
 tenance ; a fine house in the Hague was to be placed at 
 his disposal ; and their entry to the Hague was, if any- 
 thing, more sumptuous than the entry thither on the 
 bridal journey eight years ago. A respectful, orderly 
 crowd lined the roads for miles, and the broad walk of 
 the Vijverberg was so packed with citizens that many 
 were pushed into the shallow square sheet of water and 
 got a ducking as the reward of their enthusiasm. 
 
 As the Queen's carosse moved through the crowd she 
 was hugely diverted at the aspect of this assembly of 
 substantial burghers, for their sober-coloured tunics 
 merged into a blurred mass, and their heads, set between 
 exactly similar wheel-like ruffs and high-crowned black 
 hats, made them appear, as she whispered to my Lady 
 Phyllis, " like a multitude of turnips with hats set upon 
 round white plates." 
 
 The Queen of Bohemia's house faced the Lange Voor- 
 hout, standing a little back from the broad street, in a
 
 256 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 garden with high clipped, hornbeam hedges, and a 
 centre fountain bordered by formal flower-beds, where 
 red and yellow tulips stood in prim, decorous rows. It 
 was an unpretentious red-brick house, with white stone 
 copings framing the large, square windows ; not a palace 
 truly, but then her Majesty would only sojourn at the 
 Hague until the evil times were past and she could 
 return either to Prague or to Heidelberg ; or, if this did 
 not come to pass hi a few months, she would presumably 
 repair to her father at Whitehall. 
 
 Meanwhile her Court at the Hague immediately be- 
 came the hub of Holland's fashion. Her house could 
 boast of no marbled halls as at Heidelberg, of no gilded 
 splendour as at the Hradcany, yet the lofty, panelled 
 chambers were homely and comfortable, with their deep 
 fireplaces gaily adorned by the coloured Dutch tiles, and 
 the polished oaken wall-cupboards, through whose glass 
 doors were seen the blue and white jars, vases, plates, 
 and cups of that new pottery ware of Delft, which was 
 already so much the mode in Holland. These rooms saw 
 brilliant gatherings of ladies and gallants, who vowed 
 that though Elizabeth Stuart had temporarily renounced 
 the splendour of a Court, still she was always a queen 
 regnant over a kingdom of hearts and an empire of 
 manifold gaiety. Perhaps in her relief at the ending of 
 those dark days before her flight from Prague, of those 
 dreary months of sorrow and humiliation in Silesia and 
 Prussia, the Queen was a trifle over-merry for one who 
 was the cause of the horror of war having been let loose 
 over Bohemia and the Palatinate. At least, so said those 
 who had not been brought within the magic of her potent 
 charm. In Holland all hailed her advent with enthusiasm 
 the more so because in latter years there had been no 
 Court at the Hague ; for Maurice of Orange and his half- 
 brother, Frederik Hendrik, were unmarried, and thus 
 the Stadthouder's Castle, the Binnenhof, had become a 
 trysting-place of soldiers, a college of tacticians, more 
 than a courtly palace. 
 
 Holland, always famed as the home of culture and re- 
 finement, had risen to a high degree of prosperity during
 
 HOLLAND 257 
 
 the twelve years' truce with her traditional foe, Spain ; 
 and though the expiration of this armistice chanced to 
 coincide with the dethroned Bohemian Majesties' arrival, 
 and the Dutch were busy with preparations for the resump- 
 tion of active warfare, yet there was a sense of peaceful 
 security at the Hague. 
 
 The spring days passed merrily enough for Elizabeth 
 Stuart, and she followed the falcon in the forests near the 
 Hague, danced at the Binnenhof, made gay excursions 
 to Amsterdam, where she held a Court and graciously 
 received many Englishwomen of fashion, who hurried 
 over to Holland to offer their respectful homage to her 
 Majesty, 
 
 What mattered it that Ferdinand had hurled the ban 
 of the empire upon King Friedrich ? It was illegal thus 
 to pronounce the dread sentence which made a prince an 
 outlaw, and those who befriended him or his, guilty of 
 high treason to the empire, for the ban had been spoken 
 without a fair and open trial, and this was contrary to 
 the letter of the law, which bound the Emperor to afford 
 the accused trial by his peers. 
 
 Mansfeld, probably not having received for his treachery 
 as large a price as he had expected from the Emperor, 
 was in arms again in Friedrich's name on the frontier of 
 the Palatinate and Bohemia. So far things were not 
 entirely hopeless for King Friedrich, for King James still 
 professed his intention of sending troops to save the 
 Palatinate, though, as usual, he procrastinated, alleging 
 his exchequer to be empty. Friedrich implored him to 
 provide, nay, to lend funds for maintaining Mansfeld and 
 raising an English army to reinforce him ; but the money 
 was refused, and only a small force of two thousand men, 
 under Sir Horace Vere, was despatched to the Palatinate 
 with instructions to garrison Heidelberg, Mannheim, and 
 Frankenthal, which Spinola had not yet seized. Alas ! 
 the English troops in Bohemia had played a sorry part, 
 for the garrison of six hundred Englishmen which had 
 held the impregnable Karlstein, hearing of the defeat at 
 the White Mountain, had surrendered without striking a 
 
 E
 
 258 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 blow. Truly, as Elizabeth Stuart said bitterly, Bernard 
 Thurn had been right when he had so proudly declared 
 that the Englishmen's gallantry would match the Bohe- 
 mians' valour and loyalty ! Yet she must now e'en place 
 her trust in another body of English volunteers and in 
 the treacherous Mansfeld. The Princes of the Protestant 
 Union, too, had now openly abandoned King Friedrich 
 and had concluded a treaty of peace with Ferdinand, 
 wherein the Bohemian King and his Palatinate were not 
 even mentioned. 
 
 The prospect was black enough, and yet, with King 
 James's Ambassadors negotiating in Vienna for a peaceful 
 arrangement, with Maurice of Orange and his army ready 
 to take the field, with the King of Denmark professing 
 his ardour to assist, with a veritable host of young nobles 
 pouring into the Hague Bohemians, Germans, English- 
 men, Scotchmen, French Huguenots all eager to take 
 arms hi the cause of romantic misfortune, who could 
 blame King Friedrich and Elizabeth Stuart if they 
 deemed the gloom which hung over them to be but 
 a passing thundercloud ? 
 
 " Be thou faithful unto death and I will give thee a 
 crown of life," her Majesty quoted when Friedrich grew 
 faint-hearted. "An we are faithful to our cause, God 
 will remember us when the time of our trial is over. 
 Courage and a bright face, dear my lord ! We have 
 but to wait a few years, and then hey for home at 
 Heidelberg, if not to Prague again ! " Thus she set 
 herself to wait bravely, and with her usual undaunted 
 spirit she threw herself into whatever the Hague offered 
 of gaiety. Friedrich, on the other hand, with that obsti- 
 nate German dislike of the Dutch, was but ill at ease in 
 Holland. He hated the Dutchman's homely, friendly 
 ways; they seemed to him too informal, and lacking 
 in respect to a German prince. In the Hague, as in 
 almost every European town, there were distributed 
 dozens of caricatures, of rudely printed pamphlets and 
 ribald verses, wherein the "Winter King" and the "Whiter 
 Queen " were held up to ridicule. Nowadays Friedrich
 
 HOLLAND 259 
 
 was universally known by this sobriquet, which was taken 
 from the Pope's saying that " he was only a King of 
 Snows whose realm would soon melt." Friedrich raged 
 at the derisive appellation, and his anger knew no bounds 
 when he saw her Majesty dubbed " Winter Queen " in 
 the pasquinades. He resented these lampoons bitterly ; 
 but Elizabeth laughed, and even caused them to be 
 bought for her from the pedlars who hawked them 
 through the streets. 
 
 One day she sat in her wainscoted parlour with a heap 
 of these " Spottblatter " on the table beside her. 
 
 " See, my lord ! " she cried, taking one from the pile. 
 " Here am I dressed as a beggar-woman, with a baby 
 strapped to my shoulder ; and here are you pushing a 
 hand-barrow full of crowns, and underneath is written : 
 ' A Winter King seeks Summer employment ! ' ' She 
 laughed, and handed him the freshly printed sheet ! 
 
 " What insolence ! " he muttered angrily. " God give 
 me power to punish these loons some day ! " 
 
 " Why not laugh instead of raging ? Laughter routs 
 brutal mockery so much better than weak anger. See, 
 here are other pasquinades. Oh ! dear my lord, never 
 look so gloomy ; they are really droll -enough." She read 
 out the absurd lampoon purporting to be a Prague town- 
 crier's proclamation of how a sallow-faced youth, afflicted 
 with a squint, had gone amissing. " This fellow answers 
 to the name of Friedrich, King of Bohemia, and has just 
 played a part in a well-known, but badly acted comedy. 
 A reward offered for keeping him out of sight," the legend 
 ended. There was a grotesque drawing illustrating the 
 popular rhyme which was sung in the alleys of the Hague 
 just then, a foolish song enough, telling how Denmark, 
 Holland, and England had promised Friedrich a hundred 
 thousand soldiers, but that as men were scarce, they had 
 sent : Holland, a hundred thousand cheeses ; Denmark, a 
 hundred thousand red-herrings ; and England, a hundred 
 thousand ambassadors. Elizabeth Stuart laughed ; on 
 the face of it there was a certain truth in the ditty, and 
 she could not resist the humour of the verse concerning
 
 260 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 her father's hundred thousand ambassadors, when she 
 recalled the many useless solemn embassies which King 
 James always delighted to despatch. 
 
 With sombre brow and dejected attitude the King 
 stood before the window, gazing dully out into the garden, 
 while the Queen looked through the pamphlets. Suddenly 
 he turned on her almost roughly. 
 
 " I marvel, madame, that you find pleasure in such 
 insolent trash," he said. 
 
 " Pleasure ! dear heart ? " she answered quietly. " Nay, 
 but I find these verses droll, and I will not honour them 
 with anger ; they are not worth it." 
 
 " At least do not let your children see them," he said. 
 
 " My children ! Yours, too, methinks ! " she said, 
 laughing. " Hal could not understand them, though, as 
 you say, perchance I had best hide them from Maurice, 
 for as he is but six months old, he might be deeply 
 wounded. Oh ! dear my heart ; if you would take the 
 smaller things of life less gravely ! You and Amalia 
 Solms half kill me with your portentous gravity over 
 small matters ! " 
 
 " 'Tis the German way to treat life seriously " he 
 began. 
 
 " 'Tis the English way to crush disagreeable trifles by 
 ignoring them," she said, and a note of weariness underlay 
 her bantering tone. " Nay, do not let us wrangle," she 
 added ; " tell me whom you have seen on the Vijverberg 
 this day." 
 
 He told her how he had conversed with Sir Dudley 
 Carlton, the English envoy to their High Mightinesses 
 the States-General ; how Mijnheer Jacob Cats, the proverb 
 lover, had paced beside him for a half-hour's talk ; how 
 the Stadthouder's brother, Frederik Hendrik of Orange, 
 had greeted him and spoken long of the beauty of Amalia 
 Solms ; how the young painter Mierevelt had been there. 
 
 " And, sweeting, I have some tidings which your fool 
 pamphlets put from my memory," he said. " Master 
 Scultetus writes that he durst not stay in Heidelberg for 
 fear of Spinola's troops, and thus he has returned to
 
 HOLLAND 261 
 
 Silesia, where he prays us to obtain for him a cure 
 of souls." 
 
 " He is not returning to us ? " she cried. " Friedrich ! 
 I could sing aloud with joy ! That sour-visaged man 
 hath brought us enough ill luck all these years, and I am 
 too happy that he abandons us when we are in misfortune. 
 But, mark you, I think it ugly of him," she added. 
 
 " Woman's logic ! " the King said angrily, though a 
 flush of embarrassment rose to his cheek. " You accuse 
 a wise man, and a devoted servant, of bringing us mis- 
 fortune ; you are glad to be rid of him, yet you censure 
 him for not wishing to be a burden on us in our 
 poverty." 
 
 " Oh ! our poverty " she mocked. 
 
 " Yes, ma mie," he said sadly, " we are mighty poor. I 
 have hardly a groschen left, and we are bound to offer 
 hospitality and even to pay our courtiers." 
 
 " Alas ! how great a loss is Schomberg ! " she answered. 
 " I cannot cope with treasury accounts. Have we really 
 so costly a retinue ? Yes, we have a dozen Court charges, 
 and no Court ! Let us laugh and be merry ; gold will come 
 to us from one source or t'other." 
 
 " Yes," he said, " you are right ; all will yet be well. But, 
 sweeting, I have not told you all my tidings yet." He 
 paused ; she glanced at his face, and saw he had somewhat 
 to relate which he knew would be unpleasant to her. 
 
 " What is amiss ? " she asked quickly. 
 
 " Nothing nothing, on mine honour ! 'Tis only that 
 I met the Haberstadter on the Vijverberg, and " 
 
 " The Halberstiidter ! " she interrupted, and a hot flush 
 rose to her cheek. " I will not see that roisterer in mine 
 house." 
 
 " Dear heart," he said hesitatingly, " I could not be un- 
 civil to a kinsman who would fain serve us well. He was 
 very kindly and respectful to me ; his sister of Nassau 
 has ever been right friendly to us ; and he is a goodly, 
 well-looking youth." 
 
 " I will not let him come to mine house. God wot ! 
 both his mother and sister have suffered enough by reason
 
 262 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 of his evil life. Friedrich, 5 you have not bidden him to 
 sup here ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes ! Ah ! by my soul, it has come to a pretty pass 
 when I cannot offer hospitality when I will. Yes, madame, 
 I have bidden Duke Christian of Brunswick, Lay Bishop 
 of Halberstadt, to sup at mine house this day," he said, 
 half in anger, half in pleasantry, altogether wishful to 
 hide his embarrassment at having braved her displeasure. 
 The Queen rose. 
 
 " Your Majesty can do as your Majesty pleases in your 
 own house," she said haughtily. 
 
 " Oh ! be ^not wroth, my wondrous tyrant ! " he said 
 imploringly. " 'Tis only this once that Duke Christian 
 need darken your doors, ma mie." 
 
 " You have bidden him, and he must e'en come ; but I 
 shall not speak with him," she answered, as she swept 
 from the room in anger. 
 
 Friedrich stood silent. He could not comprehend the 
 Queen's mood. Surely it could not harm her to sup with 
 Christian of Brunswick ? Doubtless he was famed for 
 his wild life, but the Queen was not wont to be intolerant ; 
 many gallants of equal ill repute frequented the Hague, 
 and she had not been thus harsh. Yet it seemed as if 
 she had an especial grudge against the Halberstadter, as 
 if he alone must bear the brunt of her righteous indig- 
 nation. Well, the Halberstadter must sup once in her 
 Majesty's house, and then Friedrich would eschew his 
 company for the future. He sighed, and wandered out 
 on the Voorhout beneath the shady lime trees, his mind 
 full of perplexity at the whims and moods of even the 
 wisest and best of women. 
 
 The sun was setting in golden splendour, and a delicious 
 coolness arose from the heavy dews which already lay on 
 the flowers in the garden, while the leaves of the lime 
 trees on the Voorhout thirstily drank in the freshness 
 after the long glory of the spring day. In her Majesty's 
 parlour the guests had already arrived, and were talking 
 and laughing gaily, though all noticed the nervous rest-
 
 HOLLAND 263 
 
 lessness of the King's manner, and that Elizabeth Stuart, 
 too, seemed less gay than usual, even a trifle ill at ease 
 and haughty. Mevrouw van der Myle, daughter of poor 
 Olden Barnevelt, and owner of this house which the 
 Estates had rented for the King of Bohemia's use, stood 
 by the Queen, and the talk was of homely details of how 
 Mevrouw counselled her Majesty to change Prince Hal's 
 sleeping-room to another apartment overlooking the gar- 
 den ; and how in the autumn, when the damp mists rose 
 from the canals, it would be wise to send the children 
 away from the Hague for a few weeks. Though the 
 Queen answered courteously, a sense that her Majesty's 
 thoughts were really elsewhere froze the words on the 
 good lady's lips. Amalia Solms, standing near the open 
 window, was conversing with Frederik Hendrik, the 
 Stadthouder's brother. 
 
 " I trust the oppressive warmth of this day hath not 
 wearied the gracious Countess," he was saying, 
 
 " Nay, I find the Hague pleasantly cool after the 
 furious heat of Prague," she made answer. 
 
 " I am but too happy if your ladyship finds the Hague 
 agreeable." 
 
 Such was the courting of these most worthy persons. 
 The human moths of the world love dully, but their grey 
 words are doubtless poetry to them. Jacob Cats was 
 entertaining a merry group of ladies at the farther side of 
 the parlour. He told them quaint, homely proverbs of 
 which his mind was the storehouse, and his kindly, wise 
 brown eyes were alight with benignant amusement while 
 he stroked his well-trimmed, pointed white beard. The 
 King stood with Sir Dudley Carlton, Sir Francis Nether- 
 sole, and a few Dutch gentlemen ; but his Majesty's 
 random answers cast a chill upon the talk, and the guests 
 began to wonder why her Majesty did not give the signal 
 to repair to supper. 
 
 " What is wrong ? " whispered Lady Carlton to Mistress 
 Alison Hay. " Has the cook let the supper viands fall 
 into the fire, or has the fish swum back to Scheveningen ? *' 
 
 "Nay, Dame Carlton," the girl answered, laughing,
 
 264 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 "but there is another guest invited to sup Duke Christian 
 of Brunswick." 
 
 The good lady started. " The Halberstadter ? " she 
 said incredulously. " Well, lack-a-day ! An we wait for 
 him we shall sup at breakfast- time ! He is doubtless too 
 busy with some evil-doing to remember the hour of the 
 Queen's supper." 
 
 As she spoke the door opened, and there entered a 
 tall, svelt figure, in a green velvet tunic richly embroidered 
 with gold. Duke Christian had a clear, olive complexion, 
 and wore neither beard nor moustache ; his lips were full, 
 but they closed so firmly that in repose his mouth seemed 
 thin and cruel. He wore his brown hair cut short, and 
 in spite of the mode, no curling love-locks fell on the 
 plain, if delicate, linen of his ruff. It was a proud, 
 almost forbidding, face ; the nose a trifle thick, but the 
 nostrils were delicate and sensitive like those of a fiery, 
 well-bred horse. The deep brown eyes were strangely 
 sombre beneath the strongly marked black eyebrows. 
 
 He came into the room quietly with a swift, light step ; 
 then pausing, glanced round him. King Friedrich hurried 
 forward and greeted him warmly, even ostentatiously, for 
 his Majesty was ill at ease. The Halberstadter bowed low 
 before this dethroned King. 
 
 " There are few greater honours than to be your 
 Majesty's guest," he said. 
 
 " Cousin, it is a happy day for me when you honour 
 my poor house," answered Friedrich, laying his hand 
 affectionately on the Brunswicker's shoulder. He led 
 him up to the Queen. 
 
 " May I present your Majesty's close kinsman, Duke 
 Christian of Brunswick ? " he said in a formal tone. 
 
 " I greet your Highness well," returned Elizabeth Stuart 
 coldly, and without vouchsafing him a glance, she held 
 out her hand stiffly. The Halberstadter, bending low, 
 kissed her finger-tips reverently, almost timidly. 
 
 " Madame rna cousine, it has been the dream of my life 
 to pay you homage," he said in a low, vibrant voice. She 
 drew away her hand.
 
 CHRISTIAN, DUKE OK BRUNSWICK. 
 
 From the painting by Miereveldt in the Earl of Craven's Collection at Combe Abbey
 
 HOLLAND 265 
 
 " I trust your mother, my honoured aunt of Brunswick, 
 is well, Bishop ? " she said distantly. He started. 
 
 " I can lay no claim to clerical dignity, rnadame," he 
 said quickly. " I thank your Majesty, my mother is well. 
 Did she know the honour which hath befallen me this 
 day, she would have sent your Majesty right loving 
 greeting." The Queen bowed coldly. 
 
 " When you return into Germany, sir, I pray you offer 
 her Highness my humble duty," she said, and, turning 
 away, she called to the painter Mierevelt. 
 
 " Come, mijnheer, and tell me what new marvels you 
 have painted. Ah ! instead of killing men, as soldiers do, 
 how grand it is to make them live for ever by the magic 
 of art ! " Her whole being seemed to have changed, as in 
 a flash. When she had spoken with the Halberstadter 
 she had been haughty almost to insolence ; with Mierevelt 
 she was gracious, young, friendly. The Haberstadter 
 stood silent. His eyes had grown hard ; they glistened 
 like wet pebbles from the bed of a mountain stream. 
 After a moment he turned away and greeted Mevrouw van 
 der Myle and Lady Carlton. They responded nervously, 
 yet with that fluttered interest which women accord to 
 the man of evil repute. Jacob Cats smiled. 
 
 " The virtuous dames are always flattered by the notice 
 of the vicious man; it proves to them that they are 
 virtuous by choice, not by necessity," he said to Nether- 
 sole who was standing near him. 
 
 At this moment the doors of her Majesty's supper 
 parlour were thrown open. 
 
 " Will you lead her Majesty, cousin ? " said the King, 
 laying a friendly touch on the Halberstadter's shoulder. 
 In chill silence Elizabeth Stuart gave her hand to Duke 
 Christian, and with courtly grace they passed into the 
 supper parlour followed by the guests. 
 
 " Mijnheer Jacob shall sit near me ! " her Majesty cried, 
 as she rose from the profound courtesy she had swept to 
 the Halberstadter when he had brought her to the long, 
 narrow supper table.
 
 266 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Come, oh ! maker of proverbs ! and beguile my weari- 
 ness with your wisdom," she added, laughing. 
 
 Amalia Solms and Frederik Hendrik were seated to- 
 gether, exchanging the commonplaces which are the 
 mating songs of such natures. The King sat opposite Eliza- 
 beth Stuart, Frederik Hendrik on his right, and Mevrouw 
 van der Myle on his left, Sir Dudley Carlton, Mistress 
 Allison, Nethersole, Mistress Clovelly, Mistress Stanley, 
 several Dutch gentlemen, the French envoy a small, 
 rotund personage weighted with all the importance of 
 his busy mediocrity Mierevelt and my Lady Phyllis. 
 The Queen, turned towards Jacob Cats, seemed to have 
 eyes and ears but for him; and the Halberstadter, on 
 her right, was left to amuse himself as best he could, 
 for my Lady Carlton, seated on his right, avoided him 
 nervously, as though to speak with him would have 
 spelled defilement to the neat honesty of her shrivelled, 
 boxlike bosom, so carefully enshrined in the stiff white 
 satin of her discreet corsage. She spoke in English 
 with Sir Francis Nethersole, discussing English friends or 
 mutual acquaintances, as though to have known my Lady 
 This or my Lord That was so intimate a bond between 
 Nethersole and her, as to be a barrier unscalable by the 
 benighted foreigner who sat near them. 
 
 Sometimes the King's melancholy eyes strayed ques- 
 tioningly to Elizabeth Stuart. She was unlike herself 
 to-night, unsmiling, formal, he thought. Ah ! how irk- 
 some women were, to be sure, with their moods, their 
 whimsies, their capricious condemnations of men ! After 
 all, what did women know of a man's life ? It was ridi- 
 culous for them to judge, he argued to himself. Hus- 
 band-like, in order to improve an awkward situation, 
 Friedrich assumed a condemnatory and aggrieved manner, 
 and succeeded thereby in permeating the already chill 
 atmosphere with an undefined sense of discomfort. Feel- 
 ing this tacit hostility, this unspoken disapproval, Eliza- 
 beth Stuart responded by a contradictory mood. Throw- 
 ing off her unwonted formality, she became more than 
 usual gay and full of talk, but she continued to address
 
 HOLLAND 267 
 
 her remarks to Jacob Cats or across the table to 
 Mevrouw van der Myle, ignoring both the King and the 
 Halberstadter. 
 
 Now his Majesty addressed the Halberstadter, and they 
 were soon deep in conversation anent military matters. 
 Throughout supper Elizabeth Stuart was aware of her 
 neighbour's deep voice. There was something singularly 
 winning in its quietness. Angrily she reflected that it 
 was unmannerly of the King really churlish of the 
 Halberstadter thus to discuss tactics and strategics 
 before her. 
 
 " These German gallants think a woman cannot com- 
 prehend anything that their own addled pates have 
 learned," she said sharply to Mijnheer Cats. 
 
 " Better that than to be ruled as slavishly as we Dutch- 
 men are by our wives, perchance," he answered, laughing. 
 " Why, madame, 'tis a very tyranny the good dames 
 wield here." 
 
 " Can there be no unity, no well-balanced friendship 
 between man and woman ? " she asked, suddenly serious, 
 half-ashamed of her hasty speech, for she knew well enough 
 that she ruled King Friedrich absolutely. 
 
 " Nay, while the world lasts there will be but one head 
 in a house ; if you put two rulers in one kingdom the 
 throne will soon be demolished ! One must rule, madame ; 
 either the man must wear the petticoats and the dame 
 don the breeks, or they must keep to their own roles. 
 There must be a man and a woman in each house, but God 
 knows which of 'em is which sometimes," he said, smiling. 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Well, I vow I will never talk military tactics, be I 
 man or woman ! " she said. 
 
 " People who practise home tactics seldom discuss 
 them," he answered shrewdly. " Show me the dame who 
 talks of gallantry, and I'll answer for it she hath ne'er 
 been courted ! I warrant your Majesty is a finer strategian, 
 off the battlefield, than any of us are upon it ! " 
 
 Against her will Elizabeth Stuart, though she bantered 
 thus with Cats, heard the Halberstadter's quiet voice all
 
 268 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the time, and though she tried studiously to avert her 
 eyes, ever and anon she glanced at his hand which he 
 often laid upon the table. She noted how large and strong 
 it looked ; marvelled at its whiteness and the blue veins 
 which showed so plainly on it, at the uncommon short- 
 ness of the thumb accompanying those long, pointed, 
 nervous fingers. Through the strength of the hand there 
 seemed to be a curious delicacy and refinement. She told 
 herself that there was something cruel and brutal about 
 it ; and a little shiver ran through her a shiver of disgust, 
 as she thought. 
 
 " Madame ma cousine," came the quiet voice, " may 
 I drink to you ? " 
 
 She started and felt an unaccustomed flush invade her 
 cheeks and mount to her brow. She turned to the 
 Halberstadter. He was bending towards her with his 
 glass in his hand. Suddenly she was ashamed. She had 
 behaved like a sullen, unmannerly child, and now she was 
 blushing like a silly hoyden, she thought. 
 
 " Monseigneur, let us drink together to another Eliza- 
 beth, to your noble mother Elizabeth of Brunswick," she 
 said, her habitual charm of manner conquering her ill 
 humour. 
 
 " To my mother ! " he said, " and to my Queen ! " he 
 added earnestly. 
 
 She took her glass, and, according to the German mode, 
 held it to his and the brims touched with a gentle clink ; 
 then, as she raised the glass to her lips, their eyes met for 
 the first time, met and lingered for a full moment as they 
 drank. 
 
 " I thank your Majesty ! " he said formally and coldly ; 
 but she noticed how his strong, right hand trembled as 
 he set down his glass, and how his left hand, which lay 
 on the table near her, was clenched so fiercely that the 
 blue veins stood out and the knuckles grew yellow with 
 the force of his grip.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE SUPPER IN THE WOOD 
 
 " Que se passait-il dans nos ames ? 
 Amour ! amour ! " 
 
 DURING the days following the supper the Halber- 
 stadter was a constant visitor at the house on the 
 Lange Voorhout, and the Queen raised no protest 
 at his presence, though, save the words of formal greeting, 
 she rarely spoke to him; and to King Friedrich she 
 never mentioned his name without some scornful 
 allusion to his ill fame. It was : " Your Majesty's dear 
 friend, the housebreaker," or " Your noble companion, the 
 burgher's terror," "That lover of orgies, my reputable 
 kinsman," and the like. To her ladies she vowed she 
 disapproved of the Halberstiidter. 
 
 " Think you that I am deceived by his quiet manner ? 
 He may be mighty civil, but some day we shall see a 
 pretty scene enacted by his fierce temper," she would say. 
 One day a story came to her ears which, she informed 
 Friedrich, proved the Halberstadter to be a desperado and 
 not a fit person to enter a decent house. It was recounted 
 how, chancing to be sitting in the " Golden Head " tavern 
 opposite the Halstraatje, he had watched a crowd of 
 bravos quarreling; it had been a common drunken 
 revel of no account, and surely no affair of his. How- 
 ever, it was said that, unable to resist the amusement of 
 a brawl, he had dashed into the group and had laid hands 
 on one of the men, who had turned on the intruder with 
 the sudden fury of the drunken ; whereupon the Halber- 
 stadter had shot the man down in cold blood, and, 
 having thus sated his horrible lust, had walked calmly 
 away whistling a tune. This exploit had occurred since
 
 270 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 his friendship with King Friedrich, and her Majesty 
 vowed that she would tolerate his presence no more. 
 
 " But, dearling, do not condemn a man for the sake of 
 an unproven story," the King said. " Ask him yourself 
 what he did. I make sure it is only a trumped-up 
 scandal. Ask him, sweet Bess, I pray you." 
 
 " And, if he cannot disprove this sorry tale, will you vow 
 me he shall enter this house no more ? " she said. The 
 King sighed; he had taken a marvelous liking for the 
 Halberstadter, but, as usual, he gave in to Elizabeth. 
 
 " If this thing is true, I will have naught to do with 
 Christian of Brunswick," he said. 
 
 That evening there was a ball at the Binnenhof, and 
 after the second pavyn her Majesty withdrew into the 
 deep embrasure of one of the windows overlooking the 
 Vijver. Mistress Alison Hay and several of the Queen's 
 other ladies followed ; not my lady of Solms, for she was 
 talking with Frederik Hendrik as usual. 
 
 " See the future of Holland," said the Queen, laughing. 
 " Our dear Amalia will make a fitting chatelaine for this 
 most solid and comfortable Binnenhof." 
 
 " There will be wedding-bells, I think, indeed, madame ! 
 Lord ! how wearily sober a Court 'twill be ! " said Mistress 
 Alison maliciously. 
 
 " Nay, be not too harsh ; they will make a goodly 
 couple. Every kettle hath its lid, and 'twould be but a 
 sorry thing to put a kettle lid on a porcelain jar ! It 
 often happens, alack ! but then both jar and lid are ill at 
 ease," the Queen said lightly. She glanced round the 
 panelled room, and her eyes fell on the Halberstadter, 
 who was standing silently leaning against the door-post. 
 His face was grave and pale, and his eyes were fixed 
 on Elizabeth Stuart with something so unutterably sad 
 in their steady gaze that she felt a quick pang of com- 
 passion for this " wild desperado." As her eyes met his, 
 he started and turned away. 
 
 " Alison, I would speak with Duke Christian of Bruns- 
 wick. Ask him to come to me here," she said. The girl 
 looked surprised, but went on her errand without comment.
 
 THE SUPPER IN THE WOOD 271 
 
 " I have that to say to my cousin which only four ears 
 may hear," the Queen said to her other ladies, dismissing 
 them. She was alone when the Halberstadter came to her. 
 
 "Your Highness will marvel that I have summoned 
 you," she said abruptly, and fixed her eyes full on his 
 face. He made no response save for a deep bow. 
 
 " I have somewhat to say, and on your answer depends 
 whether or no his Majesty and I can offer you hospitality 
 in the future. Have I your Highness's word that I shall 
 hear the truth ? " 
 
 " Madame, among the sorry names that your Majesty 
 has heard given me, has the title of liar been meted out ? " 
 he said coldly, but his eyes had grown hard, and she 
 knew that no man on earth would have gone unpunished 
 for speaking thus to him. 
 
 " Have I your word, cousin ? " she repeated firmly, 
 though it cost her an effort to steady her voice. The 
 man frightened her, she realised with a sense of surprise. 
 
 'Your Majesty has my word of honour," he said 
 quietly. 
 
 " I have heard the history of your brawl a few days 
 since at the ' Golden Head ' tavern. I ask your High- 
 ness if it is true ? " she said. 
 
 " Perfectly true, inadame," he answered calmly. 
 
 " You dare tell me openly that you interfered for no 
 reason in a drunken quarrel ; that you shot a man in cold 
 blood, and went home whistling a merry tune ? " she 
 said. " You dare tell me this ? And you came to my 
 house an hour afterwards and were treated like an 
 honest gentleman ? " 
 
 " I interfered in a drunken quarrel, madame ; and I 
 shot a man dead before the ' Golden Head ' tavern," he 
 said proudly; "but neither did I do so without reason, 
 nor in cold blood. The man had just beaten his dog to 
 death, and I shot him as men shoot a mad dog. I trust 
 I may never see such a dastard act and my blood stay 
 cold ; and I know I shall kill any man who does so foul 
 a thing when I am by." 
 
 " That is a far different tale, sir cousin ! " she cried, with
 
 272 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 flashing eyes. " I, too, would kill " she stopped short. 
 " Was the dog dead ? Poor beast, poor beast ! " her eyes 
 filled with tears. 
 
 " Yes, madame," he said coldly, and with a profound 
 bow he turned and left her. 
 
 For a few moments the Queen remained alone in the 
 embrasure, her thoughts were in a turmoil. The Halber- 
 stadter's words had struck that chord which no Stuart 
 could resist the chord of their passionate love of animals, 
 and their generous wrath at whosoever lifted a cruel 
 hand against the beloved dumb servitors of man. She 
 knew that never again could she treat Christian of Brims- 
 wick as an outcast ; no man who felt thus could be entirely 
 vile. Then in a flash she remembered how Friedrich had 
 wantonly ridden his horse to death 
 
 She hurried into the crowd in the dancing-hall. 
 " Come ! let us dance a Branle & la Haye ! We've had 
 enough of the solemn pavyns ! I pray you, my Lord 
 Stadthouder ! " she cried, turning to Maurice of Orange, " I 
 pray you, order a boisterous roundel ! I am weary of the 
 stately measures ! " 
 
 As June wore on, the Queen seemed to have grown 
 strangely shy of Christian of Brunswick, but her hostility 
 of manner changed to a distant friendliness, varied even 
 by a half-bantering, capricious tone. She often addressed 
 him as though he Avere really Bishop of Halberstadt, 
 calling him " Hochwlirden," and tormenting him about his 
 pastoral duties. The Halberstadter at first answered her, 
 explaining that he was only the administrator of the 
 bishopric, and that he had nought to do with church 
 matters ; but, seeing she paid no heed to his explanations, 
 he ceased to respond. She noted that the bantering 
 fretted him, for his brown face flushed and his eyes took 
 that hard look " like brown-leather buttons," as she told 
 the King one day when describing how the Halberstadter 
 appeared when he was angry. It was evident that his dis- 
 pleasure added zest to her mischievous spirit, for she rallied 
 him the more. Yet she vowed that she disapproved of
 
 THE SUPPER IN THE WOOD 273 
 
 the Halberstadter, albeit she never wearied of hearing 
 accounts of his wild life. 
 
 " What was that history concerning the husband who 
 was flung out of the window ? " she would say, and then 
 they told her again how Christian had been surprised 
 with the wife of the Burgomaster of Haarlem, and how 
 this reverend personage, when he had dared upbraid his 
 faithful spouse, had been heaved out of his own bed- 
 chamber window by the Halberstadter. The story went 
 that Christian had been heard to say he would serve any 
 man in the same fashion who dared offer insult to a 
 woman in his presence, and that because a poor dame was 
 mated with a brute it was no reason for a cavalier to stand 
 by and hear her affronted. Still, it was an ugly tale, 
 though there were darker ones concerning him. Never- 
 theless, it seemed that Elizabeth Stuart took a veritable 
 delight in hearing of the pranks played by her kinsman ; 
 and the King had vowed him a warm admiration and 
 friendship. Christian was all that he, Friedrich, would 
 have wished to have been, and the reports of the Halber- 
 stadter's violence only served to increase the radiance of 
 the aureole he wore in the King's vision ; for Friedrich, 
 being incurably mild, adored violence. Yet to pacify the 
 Queen he was eager in his refutation of the scandalous 
 histories. But the Queen frowned ; she did not want the 
 histories to be refuted ; she certainly disapproved of the 
 Halberstadter. 
 
 Towards midsummer evil tidings came from Prague, 
 and into the comfortable commonplace of the life at 
 the Hague there crept a sense of brooding disaster and 
 sadness. The Emperor had promised full pardon to the 
 Bohemians, if they laid down their swords and returned to 
 their allegiance to the Empire. No hint of impending 
 retribution was given, and though Thurn, Hohenlohe, and 
 several other Czechish gentlemen had deemed a few years' 
 voluntary exile to be the safer course, many had remained 
 on their estates in Bohemia trusting in Ferdinand's promise. 
 At first no harsh measures had been adopted towards the 
 " repentant rebels," as they were called, but then, without 
 
 S
 
 274 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 warning, they had been summoned before an Imperial 
 tribunal at Prague, where they were accused of high treason. 
 Old Schlick, my lord of Czernin, Budova, Harrant of 
 Polzic, and a score of others including Doctor Jansenius, the 
 scholar who had written King Friedrich's pamphlets con- 
 cerning the Bohemian crown, were condemned to torture 
 and death ; and though they affirmed that they were con- 
 quered foes, not traitorous conspirators, the cruel sentences 
 were consummated on the market-place at Prague. They 
 died bravely, one and all, and though the Emperor had 
 caused a hundred drummers to be stationed round the 
 scaffold to drown by their noise the last speeches of the 
 Bohemian patriots, still some faithful ones managed to 
 hear and had delivered these last messages of loving 
 loyalty to King Friedrich at the Hague. 
 
 A more terrible situation can scarce be imagined for an 
 honest man than that into which Friedrich was forced. 
 Here were men dying for him ; here was an army under 
 Mansfeld in the field in his name ; and here he was bound 
 to inaction by the promise extorted from him by King 
 James that he would not undertake a fresh campaign 
 while the ambassadors in Vienna were negotiating a 
 compromise. Poor Winter King ! He was doomed 
 to the agony of uselessness. All his life he had had 
 occupation he had called it work with State affairs, and 
 now he was face to face with the emptiness of his own 
 soul, that emptiness which idleness alone can fully reveal 
 to us. Added to this was the bitter knowledge that the 
 whole world either laughed at him, sneered at him, or 
 blamed him. It was said that he had lighted a fire which 
 consumed his friends, and that he stayed afar in safety 
 and watched them burn. The flood of lampoons and 
 caricatures taught him what was said of him, he could 
 not escape knowledge of them, for they were nailed on 
 every wall in the Hague, and lightheartedly the populace 
 sang the refrains of the ribald, mocking songs in the narrow 
 streets. Elizabeth Stuart, if she still caused the printed 
 sheets to be brought to her, hid them now or did not 
 mention them to Friedrich. Indeed, although she raged
 
 THE SUPPER IN THE WOOD 275 
 
 and sorrowed at the Bohemians' cruel fate, it seemed far off 
 to her just then. It was a new world to her, all was new 
 she Friedrich the glory of summer all had been 
 reborn, she knew not why. Though there were clouds 
 enough to overshadow her, though she played her part 
 with dignity and fitting thought for all, yet it was as 
 though she had never lived before. She told herself 
 that it was thus with her because the human heart reverts 
 to joyousness and youth, all the more strongly after an 
 o'erdarkened spell. 
 
 Her Majesty of Bohemia deigned to accept the hospi' 
 tality of Mevrouw van Half Wassenaar at an alfresco 
 supper beneath the beech-trees of the Bosch. Far from 
 the town of the Hague, deep in the wood, was an avenue 
 of beeches, whose hoary age recalled the legend that this 
 was the sacred grove which had surrounded a Roman 
 temple long before the noble plaisance, the Bosch, had 
 become the ill-famed Schalkenbosch, so named because 
 it had been the haunt of robber bands and outlaws. But 
 in the year of grace sixteen hundred and twenty-one the 
 Bosch, now a wooded park, had become the resort of 
 the fashionable world at the Hague. The burghers and 
 their portly spouses preferred to pace at their leisure in 
 the alleys beneath the lime-trees on the Lange Voorhout, 
 watching the unwieldy carosses of the great lumber down 
 the centre drive those quaint carosses with their prancing 
 arch-necked steeds decked with an amplitude of emblazoned 
 trappings and with nodding plumes upon their aristocratic 
 heads ; the carosses with lumpy leather tops and leather 
 curtains instead of glass in their windows, with finely 
 painted panels, and with small front wheels and enormous 
 spindly hind wheels, whose disproportion caused the clumsy 
 vehicles to sway and jolt over the uneven road. Yet who 
 was not proud to own such an equipage ? It was the 
 latest mode, and so costly that only the wealthy great 
 could dream of possessing such a conveyance. The 
 burghers' dames still went a-travelling safely strapped 
 behind stout riders on trustworthy, cautious nags, and they
 
 276 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 viewed with awe and delight the caresses thundering down 
 the Lange Voorhout. Thus the Bosch was left to the 
 ladies and gallants, and the shady glades were generally 
 peopled by a gaily clad throng of courtly personages. 
 
 And here on that summer evening Mevrouw van Half 
 Wassenaar's alfresco feast was to take place. The tables 
 were spread beneath the beech-trees, in whose boughs 
 twinkled tiny lamps, while, discreetly hidden in the wood, 
 musicians discoursed soft melodies. The guests arrived, 
 a galaxy of fashion, gentlemen with the newest patterns 
 of embroidered doublets sent to them from Paris, with 
 the latest mode of broad Spanish hat, the last-invented 
 trick of fastening the Flemish boots around the knee ; 
 ladies who had learned that the fardingale was banished 
 from the world, who knew that none could appear now 
 save in voluminous flowing skirts ; that the rebatoe was a 
 moribund monster, and that in Paris the deep turned- 
 down lace collar was the sign of a lady, not only of 
 quality, but of fashion. 
 
 Now her Majesty of Bohemia's carosse swung down the 
 avenue alas ! not her Majesty's own carosse, for, as all the 
 world knew, the Winter Queen, albeit she kept a stud of 
 horses, loving them too well to be bereft of these at least, 
 still she owned no coaches, though by her uncle Maurice 
 of Orange's liberality and courtesy she had the use of 
 the Stadthouder's equipages. But what mattered it ? 
 Her Majesty was only making a short sojourn in Holland, 
 pending her triumphal return to the splendours of Prague 
 or of Heidelberg, And why remember unpleasant trifles 
 war, death, poverty, and the like on such a summer 
 evening and at such a merry feast ? Sure, her Majesty 
 had banished care ; for how radiant she looked in her 
 ivory satin gown, with the large lace collar which fell 
 away and showed the pearl-like whiteness of her throat 
 and bosom, where the blue veins traced so wondrous a 
 poem of youth. Her brown eyes were full of light ; it 
 seemed to the Halberstadter, as he bowed over her hand 
 when she alighted from her coach, that never had he seen 
 her so beautiful and that light in her eyes ?
 
 THE SUPPER IN THE WOOD 277 
 
 " Most reverend cousin ! Ah ! what a glorious feast, 
 and yet methinks these are worldly doings for a bishop ! 
 Mevrouw van Wassenaar, you have magicked a fairyland 
 here ! Ah ! see, there go Amalia and my Lord of 
 Orange ! " She was lighthearted as a young maiden this 
 night, and, God wot, her twenty-five summers were no 
 heavy burden to her. She seemed the youngest of all 
 her ladies, though the quaint wisdom of her quips told 
 that her wit had grown more subtle by the teaching of 
 experience and of sorrow. 
 
 Even the King was merry that night, and he paid court 
 to the ladies with so good a grace that they vowed him a 
 pretty gallant. 
 
 Soon the supper ended, and from the wood there came 
 the lilt of a galliard tune. It was the same melody which 
 the wandering musicians had played at the Star Palace 
 scarcely a year since. For a moment the Queen's gay 
 spirit drooped. 
 
 " Ah ! God ! why must they let me hear that melody 
 to-day ? " she murmured ; "just to-day ? " 
 
 " And why not just to-day, sweet madame ? " said my 
 Lady Phyllis wonderingly. " We can never forget ! " The 
 girl's voice grew husky, and her eyes were veiled in tears. 
 
 " We must ever remember, and I would not wish to 
 forget," said the Queen. " And yet and yet " 
 
 " Madame ma cousine, will you pace a measure with 
 me ? " said a deep, quiet voice. She started. 
 
 " Ah, sir ! I would not dance this galliard," she said. 
 They stood together beneath the beech-trees ; my Lady 
 Phyllis had wandered away, the other ladies were dancing, 
 the King and a group of gallants were making merry 
 near the supper-table. Elizabeth Stuart and the Hal- 
 berstadter were alone. 
 
 " Your Majesty hath grown sad since this galliard hath 
 rung out," he said. 
 
 " How know you that ? " she answered haughtily. She 
 drew herself a little further from him ; her whole being 
 seemed to say that her sadness or her joy was naught to 
 him, yet she knew that she awaited his answer impatiently.
 
 278 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 As he remained silent she glanced at him. He stood 
 beside her immovable as a statue ; she could only see his 
 profile, for he was looking straight before him. The 
 galliard ended, and still they stood there silently. 
 
 " Madame, I pray you pace this measure with me 1 " he 
 said as another tune rang out ; " or is it your Majesty's 
 will that I should bring another gallant to crave this 
 honour ? " 
 
 " Nay," she answered ; then again her mischievous spirit 
 returned, and she cried, " and yet, Sir Cousin, since 
 when do reverend pastors dance ? Your mitre would fall 
 off ? I trow 'tis better to dance with a cavalier than with 
 a bishop ! " He turned on her suddenly. 
 
 " Enough ! " he said sternly. " I have heard too much 
 of this fool banter. I will hear no more ! " His eyes 
 had grown to a curious colour as of tarnished steel, and 
 he held her by his glance strangely. For an instant 
 they stood like two fierce animals preparing to fight to 
 the death. Tall man as he was, her eyes were almost 
 on a level with his, for she had inherited the great height 
 of Marie Stuart. Her eyes fell before his. 
 
 " Cousin," she said with feigned lightness, " tell me, 
 own to me, that you do but masquerade as a cavalier ? " 
 She paused ; somehow she had no heart for silly quips 
 just then, and no laughing word came to the summons of 
 her will. 
 
 " Do you bid me to cease masquerading ? " he asked, and 
 there was that in his voice which thrilled her, making 
 her heart to beat wildly and a rush of hot blood to throb 
 in her temples. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, and she scarce knew that she 
 had spoken. 
 
 " Elizabeth ! Queen of my life ! " he said, and he 
 spoke more in command than in prayer. " Elizabeth, 
 cease masquerading thou, too ! " 
 
 She said no word, but she laid her hand on her white 
 bosom as though to still her unwonted breathlessness. 
 
 " Beloved ! beloved ! " he said. She was compelled to 
 look at him, and in that look was revealed to her why
 
 THE SUPPER IN THE WOOD 279 
 
 the world, the glory of summer, why all things were new 
 to her. 
 
 " Come and dance, cousin," she said tremulously. 
 
 " And if my bishop's mitre should fall off ? " he 
 whispered, but she made no answer save to hold out her 
 hand for him to lead her to the dance. For an instant 
 he looked at her, and it seemed as though his eyes drew 
 her to him ; then he took her hand quietly, but in so 
 fierce a grasp that she almost called aloud in pain. 
 
 " Do I hurt you ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," she murmured, but she let her hand rest 
 in his. 
 
 " Christian ! " she said, and he bent to her. " Christian!" 
 she whispered yet a second time.
 
 CHAPTEE XVII 
 
 "AS NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE" 
 
 ..." And on 
 
 Her voice I hung like fruit among green leaves ; 
 
 Her lips were all my own, and ah, ripe sheaves 
 
 Of happiness ! ye on the stubble droop, 
 
 But never may be garner'd. I must stoop 
 
 My head, and kiss death's foot ! Love ! love, farewell ! " 
 
 KEATS. 
 
 LVE has a calendar of his own, a strange and seem- 
 ingly erratic system of counting days and hours. 
 Sometimes he writes down a year for an hour, and 
 sometimes into an hour he reckons joy or pain sufficient 
 to fill long years. 
 
 For Elizabeth Stuart the summer months seemed a life- 
 time, and yet the days passed with the swift unreality of 
 a dream. She was quieter than of yore ; in the midst of 
 laughter and gay talk she would grow suddenly abstracted. 
 It was said that some new plan was afoot whereof the 
 Queen was cognisant ; it was whispered that she projected 
 a journey to England, or that she had tidings out of 
 Germany, which foretold her return to Heidelberg, or 
 to Prague. Good tidings for sure, for she had grown more 
 beautiful than she had ever been, and the throng of wor- 
 shippers round her were more than ever enthralled by her 
 glowing charm. 
 
 The twelve years' truce having expired, Maurice of 
 Orange was occupied with preparations for a campaign 
 against the Spaniards, and King Friedrich, over-weary of 
 the life at the Hague, proclaimed his intention of joining 
 Maurice's forces. Elizabeth Stuart protested vehemently; 
 it was as though she durst not let him go. She reminded 
 
 him of his promise to King James ; she contended that it 
 
 00
 
 "AS NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE" 281 
 
 was madness, for it would render useless the embassy at 
 Vienna ; she vowed that it was unsuitable for a crowned 
 monarch to fight as though he were a soldier of fortune ; 
 she pleaded with him, she upbraided him ; she even quoted 
 Louise Juliane's written opinion on the subject, and, when 
 a woman quotes her husband's mother, 'tis sure she must 
 be in pressing need of support. But, for once, Friedrich 
 was obdurate. She had told him so often that his 
 will was strong, that he had begun to believe it himself, 
 and now he viewed his obstinacy as an exhibition of his 
 forceful nature. 
 
 Albeit he did not actually pitch his tent in Maurice of 
 Orange's camp, he spent many days with the ariny, and 
 it was no unusual occurrence for him to send excuses for 
 not returning to sleep in the house on the Lange Voor- 
 hout ; there was a parade the following morning which he 
 would fain attend there was a muster of his squadron 
 there was this, there was that. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart, as was her habit once a thing was 
 settled, made no further demur, and the life at the Hague 
 went on its accustomed quiet course. The Halberstadter 
 was still in the town, being in command of a troop of 
 Dutch horse stationed at the Hague. The first days of the 
 King's absence he avoided the house on the Lange Voor- 
 hout, but Elizabeth Stuart told him before the King, when 
 the latter returned, that she deemed it unkinsmanly of 
 him thus to desert her. 
 
 " Truly, cousin, 'tis but a poor chivalry you offer me," 
 she said. They were in the oaken parlour, the windows 
 stood open and the evening air wafted in a fragrancy of 
 roses. The King was dallying with the English ladies ; 
 my Lady Phyllis, seated near, held her lute upon her 
 knee. She had been singing, and the King was laughing 
 with her about the words of her song. 
 
 " ' Gather ye rosebuds while ye may ' ; yes, yes, my 
 Lady Phyllis, 'tis nigh past your first bloom. Fie ! sweet 
 Phyllis, I vow you are in the June of your life already and 
 still unwed ! " he cried. 
 
 " Your Majesty should find a gallant for me, then," she
 
 282 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 retorted ; " but you take them all away to your dull 
 camp." 
 
 " I leave you the Halberstadter, what more can you 
 demand ? Why, sir," he said, turning to Christian, " here 
 is a fair damosel who says she's deserted ! " 
 
 " Yes, I have just told his Highness of Brunswick that 
 'tis unmannerly thus to flout us ! " cried the Queen. " But 
 he deems it unseemly to come hither when your Majesty 
 is not by to control us. Ritter Christel was not thus ! " 
 she added, turning to the Halberstadter. " He was a per- 
 fect cavalier ! " 
 
 "I am a soldier, madame," answered the Halberstadter 
 gravely. 
 
 " Well said, cousin," cried Friedrich, laughing. " Never- 
 theless, as your superior in military rank, I command you 
 to be on guard at my palace during rny absence." The 
 Halberstadter shot him a quick glance. 
 
 " Your Majesty shall be obeyed," he said, with a strange 
 smile. 
 
 Thus it fell out that the Halberstadter was in constant 
 attendance on her Majesty. Each morning they rode at 
 the head of a gay cavalcade, passing over the Buitenhof 
 and down the narrow streets past the Fish Market hard 
 by the sombre Groote Kerke, and out into the smiling, 
 canal-crossed country fields. Daily he sat at dinner and 
 supper beside her Majesty, and her ladies whispered that 
 the Halberstadter was becoming a second Ritter Christel. 
 My Lady Phyllis laughingly mentioned this to the Queen 
 a harmless jest enough, but Elizabeth Stuart turned on 
 her with sudden anger. 
 
 " How dare you speak thus to me ? " she cried. " When 
 will you learn that one friend can never take another's 
 place ? That is the unwisdom of jealousy ! Each hath his 
 own place in a life, and it regards no one who takes a place 
 beside him. I hate this talk of one friend ousting another!" 
 
 My Lady Phyllis gazed at the Queen in surprise. 
 
 " Why, madame, I meant no more than a foolish jest," 
 she said. " Only your Majesty was so harsh about Duke 
 Christian at first."
 
 "AS NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE" 283 
 
 " I am still harsh I still deem his Highness of Bruns- 
 wick all that I said he was at first," she answered, but 
 she avoided my Lady Phyllis' eyes, and busied herself 
 disentangling her jewelled chain which had caught in the 
 lace of her falling collar. 
 
 One day the Queen of Bohemia's Court (so they called 
 the merry company which was wont to gather round the 
 exiled Queen) had been on a gay excursion to the little 
 town of Delft. They had wandered about the quaint 
 streets for an hour, had marvelled at the gaunt immensity 
 of the church tower, and then had returned in barges 
 down the broad canal to the Hague. The Halberstadter 
 had been more than usually silent and sombre, and 
 Elizabeth Stuart had pestered him with a hundred jests 
 until even my Lady Phyllis had taken pity on him, and 
 had called him to her side. His sister, the Countess 
 Sophie of Nassau, was of the party, and she had often 
 glanced anxiously at her brother's clouded brow. 
 
 " Ma reine, my brother Christian is a dangerous target 
 for the shafts of pleasantry," she had said. " I marvel 
 that he bears it even as he does. Alack ! poor, mad 
 Halberstadter, as they call him, I think he hath found 
 the hand that can tame him." She had spoken meaningly, 
 but Elizabeth Stuart had hastily turned the talk to 
 another theme. 
 
 Now the whole company was partaking of late supper 
 at the house on the Voorhout The Halberstadter was 
 seated beside her Majesty. Right merrily the talk and 
 laughter went on, and Elizabeth Stuart was in her gayest 
 vein. Jacob Cats was there as usual, Nethersole, Frederik 
 Hendrik, Sir Dudley Carlton, Amalia Solms, the English 
 ladies, a few Bohemian exiles, and a number of Dutch 
 gallants. The King was absent at the camp, 
 
 When the supper ended, of course the English ladies 
 called for a dance, and soon the melodies of the galliard, 
 the branle, and the couranto echoed into the stillness of 
 the night. Elizabeth Stuart vowed it was too hot to 
 dance, and, taking my Lady of Nassau's arm, she wandered 
 out into the garden. The air was laden with the perfume
 
 284 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 of the last lime-blossoms, a heavy, languorous scent. For 
 some time the ladies paced together along the narrow 
 garden pathways, breathing in the fragrance. Then two 
 figures appeared in the light in the doorway. 
 
 " Ah ! your Grace of Nassau, have I found the cruel 
 truant who had vowed to tread a pavyn with me this 
 night ? A heartless desertion of a poor exiled English- 
 man, indeed ! " cried one, as the Queen and Sophie of 
 Nassau came in sight. 
 
 " Alack ! Sir Dudley, you will not rob me of my com- 
 rade ? " said the Queen, laughing. 
 
 " Yea, madame, so I will if her ladyship will retrieve 
 the faith of faithless womanhood and dance with me," he 
 answered stoutly. The first bars of a pavyn rang out, 
 and the Queen waved the dancers away. 
 
 " Go and labour to divert yourselves ; I will stay here 
 with my honoured cousin of Brunswick for a space. Ah ! 
 I am right weary with our jaunt to-day ! " she said. The 
 Countess of Nassau and Carlton hurried away. 
 
 " I trust your Highness is not loth to spend a short 
 half -hour here in the coolness with me?" Elizabeth Stuart 
 said after a long pause, during which they had paced the 
 short length of the garden twice. They had not spoken 
 alone since that evening at the alfresco feast. He stood 
 still and held out both his hands towards her. 
 
 " Love of my life ! " he said, " have mercy do not 
 mock me now. Listen ! I leave Holland soon." 
 
 " Leave Holland ? " she said. " Why ? Where do you 
 go ? What will you do ? " 
 
 " I love a woman madly," he said in a low voice. 
 " She is a queen, and I go to reconquer her realm for 
 her." She laid her hands in his. 
 
 " I cannot let you go," she said tremulously. " Ah ! 
 you bid me to cease masquerading once, tell me, are you 
 playacting now ? Christian, I cannot let you go." 
 
 " Yet I must go. God ! do you think I can live on for 
 ever as I am living now ? " he broke out. 
 
 " I would fain live on for ever thus," she said slowly. 
 
 " No man can bear it ! " he answered fiercely ; " yes,
 
 "AS NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE" 285 
 
 they call me the mad Halberstadter, and I shall merit the 
 name if I linger here. You are a woman you are no 
 foolish maiden Elizabeth, do you not know that a man's 
 love is no child's play ? My love is no light thing no 
 boy's fancy for a pretty face ! I tell you that no man can 
 bear it ! " She felt how his whole body quivered, she 
 heard his breath come thick and fast ; his grip hurt her ; 
 but she, too, held his hands almost as strongly. Through 
 the open windows the lilt of the pavyn melody came to 
 them and the sound of the laughing voices, but the street 
 beyond the garden was deserted and they were alone, 
 save for the heavy scent of the lime-blossom, which 
 seemed to be a languorous presence breathing near them. 
 
 Slowly he drew her to him, and, gathering her hands, he 
 held them imprisoned with both of his against his breast. 
 They spoke no word, for passion is always silent passion 
 which says what no words can tell passion whereof the 
 poets have tried to whisper during untold ages. 
 
 They stood there immovable, held by their own rap- 
 ture, and their eyes drew their souls together; their 
 breath came fast. The pavyn was ending, the final 
 chords rang out. 
 
 " When ? Beloved. Have mercy tell me ! " he 
 whispered, so close that his lips almost touched hers. 
 
 " To-night," she said. " Christian I " 
 
 " Where is Her Majesty ? She will catch an ague in 
 this cold ! " came Amalia Solms' voice, and she appeared in 
 the doorway carrying the Queen's velvet cloak on her arm. 
 
 " Oh ! madame," she cried, as she saw the Queen 
 approaching beside the Halberstadter, " I crave your 
 Majesty's forgiveness; you must have been chilled to 
 death without your cloak." 
 
 " Nay," said the Queen, " I am not chilled," and she 
 re-entered the house with a half-humorous, half-piteous 
 smile on her lips. 
 
 The Queen's bedchamber was on the ground floor, near 
 a little door opening on to the garden. It was a spacious 
 apartment, oaken-panelled and lofty, with a carven over-
 
 286 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 mantel and a deep, tiled fireplace. The curtains were of 
 that rich viol-brown velvet which the Queen loved ; the 
 hangings of the large four-posted bed were of brown, but 
 relieved by a wealth of gold and silver, emblazoning the 
 royal arms of Bohemia and the Palatinate, encircled by 
 the blue ribbon of the garter. 
 
 " All that we have left of the Garter is here," the Queen 
 was wont to say, " since my Lord King dropped the 
 ribbon at the Strahow Gate after the battle." It was 
 bitter to King Friedrich when she spoke thus, for he 
 raged at the knowledge that Maximilian of Bavaria had 
 bought the diamond Garter for a mean price from a Polish 
 soldier, who had chanced to find the jewel, which Friedrich 
 had lost when he had ridden back to the Hradcany Palace 
 to bid Elizabeth Stuart fly before the Imperial conquerors. 
 That Maximilian the Astute should own the Garter was 
 galling to the unfortunate King. 
 
 The Queen's room was sombre ; yet there was a certain 
 repose in the tone of the whole apartment, and it suited 
 Elizabeth Stuart, whose eyes were so strangely similar in 
 colour to the viol-brown which she affected in her dress, 
 as in the furnishings of her house. Then, too, the brown 
 showed up the transparent whiteness of her skin, and 
 the delicate flush, like to the glow of a wild-rose petal, 
 which lay on her fresh young cheek. 
 
 That summer night, as she sat before her silver mirror, 
 she seemed like a matchless pearl, which some ingenious 
 jeweller had set in a sombre background to enhance the 
 sheen of its marvelous whiteness. In the light of the 
 waxen candles beside her mirror, she saw that her eyes 
 were shining, that her lips were more than usual red, 
 and she deemed that the secret in her heart must be 
 written in letters of flame upon her flushed face for all 
 the world to read. The tiring-woman was smoothing 
 out the thick coils of the Queen's hair, and Elizabeth 
 Stuart fancied that the woman's eyes scrutinised her 
 inquisitively in the mirror. 
 
 " Ah yes ! " she told herself, " she who goes from out 
 the safe paths of life must bear the rude stare of the
 
 "AS NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE" 287 
 
 curious." It struck her that her whole demeanour that 
 night must have appeared unusual. It was her habit 
 to be assisted in her unrobing by at least two of her 
 ladies, but this evening she had dismissed them curtly, 
 saying she was weary and the tiring- woman could attend 
 to her. 
 
 " Have my ladies retired to their sleeping apart- 
 ments ? " she asked the woman abruptly. " Go and bid 
 them be ready betimes to-morrow, for I would ride out 
 early. I forgot to mention this to their ladyships." The 
 woman went on her errand. The Queen leaned her 
 elbows on the table and rested her face in her hands. 
 Her cheeks burned feverishly, and her hands were cold 
 as ice. What was she going to do she, the mother of 
 little Hal ? No ! it could never be and yet and yet, 
 how delicious was this cup of life, this draught of passion 
 which would soon be offered to her. Was she to go 
 through the long years without knowing the joy of love ? 
 She had loved King Friedrich, and she loved him still ; 
 but it had always been duty, acquiescence, kindliness, the 
 wish to give him what he craved. She had never been 
 stirred by passion before ; now she knew how the touch 
 of a hand can give such rapture that all the world grows 
 dim and far off; now she knew what Friedrich meant 
 when he had said : " C'est du feu que tu me verses dans 
 les veines ! " She marveled he could have felt this, and 
 that she had known nothing of it. Surely, surely this 
 ecstasy of life should not be wasted ? If God sends us 
 rapture shall we not take it ? 
 
 " Christian ! " she murmured, and a tremor went 
 through her, a tremor so potent that she drew a quick, 
 sobbing breath as of pain. A voice came close to her, 
 and she started violently. 
 
 " The ladies are a-bed, your Majesty. My Lady Phyllis 
 has given commands that they should be wakened early 
 to-morrow. The other ladies were already asleep," the 
 tiring-woman said. Her voice sounded drowsy and 
 affronted, as though she resented that others should 
 slumber while she was forced to labour.
 
 288 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 "Yes, it grows late,"said her Majesty ; "you may leave me 
 now I need nothing more." The woman looked surprised. 
 
 " Your Majesty's hair " she began. 
 
 " I will bind it up myself later," the Queen answered 
 impatiently. " Stay ! Give me my blue velvet pelisse 
 with the white fur ; I would sit and read awhile, and there 
 is a chill in the air." The woman brought the quaint 
 little garment which was so much the mode just then a 
 velvet coat trimmed with bands of soft white fur, with 
 loose sleeves, and fur-trimmed collar cut wide, leaving 
 the neck free. The fashion of the rebatoe and fardingale 
 those stiff adorners of beauty had made these coats 
 necessary for the ladies who would be at ease in their 
 hours of relaxation ; and though both rebatoe and 
 fardingale were now banished, still the mode of " the 
 little pelisse," as it was called, continued, especially in 
 Holland, where the painters loved to portray the gentle 
 dames in these soft garments. 
 
 The Queen donned the " little pelisse," and seated 
 herself near a table where lay a few books. She opened 
 one at random ; it was " Astr^e," Honor^ d'Urfe's romance, 
 a pretty thing enough, and especially pleasing to those 
 who knew that the fantastic medley of shepherds and 
 nymphs, lovers and knights, portrayed Henry IV. of 
 France and the personages of his Court. Yet Elizabeth 
 Stuart had no mind for such fond histories just then. 
 She turned the pages, and absently her eyes followed the 
 words she saw written there ; but Celadon and Astree, 
 Silvandre and Diane, Hylas and the rest, meant naught 
 to her. Rather she thought how slow was the tiring- 
 woman, who was moving about, gathering up the discarded 
 garments and locking away the jewels. 
 
 "Can I do no more for your Majesty?" the woman 
 asked, after a time. 
 
 " No, I thank you ; that is all I need," she answered, 
 and by an effort of will she kept her eyes on the page 
 whereon was writ the story of the amorous Celadon. The 
 woman curtseyed and retired, and as the sound of her 
 footsteps died away, the Queen flung the book on the
 
 "AS NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE" 289 
 
 table. At last, at last, she was alone, and now she must 
 decide upon her course. Decide ? Alas ! she knew that 
 her decision was already taken ; she could not give herself 
 to the Halberstadter. Yet why had she whispered that 
 word " to-night " to him ? She was no silly wench who 
 could pretend to innocent rashness ; she had known full 
 well what he craved. With a rush of thrilling passion 
 she knew, too, what she desired but it could never be, 
 she told herself. Ah ! why could she not plead weak- 
 ness before the tribunal of her own judgment ? Despair- 
 ingly she knew that she was strong despairingly she knew 
 that she must cheat the man she loved cheat him, for 
 when she had bidden him to come to her it had been a 
 tacit promise a consent. 
 
 For a moment she thought she would not unlatch the 
 little garden door ; she would fasten her casement, draw 
 the curtains round her bed and feign sleep, and when he 
 came he would wait awhile in the moonlit garden, and 
 then go go for ever. 
 
 No ! she could not do this she could not face the 
 lifelong knowledge of his hatred and scorn. This one 
 thing must be hers, this, that he should hold her in his 
 arms that she should know his kiss that she should 
 confess her passion to him. She told herself that this 
 would be no crime no disloyalty to Friedrich only 
 this once only this once ! 
 
 She sprang up and went quickly along the short pas- 
 sage to the garden door, unlatched it, and sped back, 
 leaving her own door ajar. Her casement was open, and 
 the scent of the lime-blossom stole in. The night was 
 far spent, and already there was a chill in the air which 
 heralded the dawn. She heard a swift step without in the 
 garden. Instinctively she turned away and leaned against 
 the oaken shelf of the fireplace. She closed her eyes, 
 her whole being trembled, and a shudder ran over her 
 shoulders, for she knew that in an instant his touch 
 would come upon her. She was breathless, quivering ; 
 her hands were icy cold and feeble like those of a 
 swooning woman. 
 
 T
 
 290 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Elizabeth ! Beloved ! " she heard him whisper. 
 
 She remained immovable. 
 
 " Elizabeth," he said again, and she felt him near her. 
 Then came the touch wherefore she had waited, and a 
 thrill went through her from head to foot. 
 
 " Christian," she said, and turned to him swiftly. 
 Their eyes met lingered his look travelled down from 
 her eyes to her lips then, while the universe stood still 
 for her, while her pulses fluttered, halted, and the blood 
 seemed to ebb from her heart, she felt his lips claim hers. 
 
 It was as though her consciousness floated deliciously, 
 as if time and space had vanished and the world held 
 only that potent thrill which burned and froze at once. 
 Slowly he drew away from her drew away, for her lips 
 clung to his, and as they parted her breath drank his, 
 as if half dead with thirst, she sought to drain at one 
 draught the passion's elixir which only his being could 
 bestow upon her. 
 
 Long they leaned together there, his arm supporting 
 her, for else she was so weak so wondrous weak that 
 she would have fallen. 
 
 Then he drew her to her chair and, kneeling beside 
 her, kissed her uncoiled hah-, buried his face in it, breathed 
 in its fragrancy; then took her hand and kissed her 
 fingers, crushed the palm against his mouth, and growing 
 bolder, pressed his lips along the smoothness of her bare, 
 white arm, until the pushed back sleeve defended the 
 softness of her shoulder. Grown bolder still, he parted 
 the lace upon her bosom, and kissed her breast, where 
 the blue veins wandered like the mysterious pathways of 
 some passion's paradise. His kisses fell on the whiteness 
 of her slim throat until, in frenzied rapture, his lips met 
 hers once more, and they knew the eternity of a kiss 
 that eternity which, alack ! is so soon ended. 
 
 Softly through the open casement, past the hangings 
 of viol-brown velvet, came the breath of the lime-trees 
 and the rustle of the almost imperceptible night-breeze 
 in the leaves. All the world was asleep save Elizabeth 
 and Christian and the summer night.
 
 "AS NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE" 291 
 
 She leaned against his arm and gazed into his face. 
 
 " Christian, why have you made me love you ? " she 
 asked. He bent his head, and for answer drew her 
 closely to him, and once more she felt how he trembled. 
 When he released her she asked him again : 
 
 " Why have you made me love you ? Silent one, 
 answer me." 
 
 " Because there is only you on earth," he said. " Be- 
 cause you had to love me." 
 
 " That is no answer," she said, with a little laugh. 
 
 " Oh ! woman that you are 1 why must you ask that 
 which no one can tell ? " he said. " I love you as never 
 man hath loved before, and that is why you love me." 
 
 " So many have loved me, but I have never " she 
 
 began. 
 
 " How dare you tell me that ? " he broke out fiercely. 
 " No one has ever loved you save I no one ; do you 
 hear ? " His eyes dominated her, and she repeated as in 
 a dream : 
 
 " No one has ever loved me save you, Christian ; that 
 is why I am yours." 
 
 He stood up and imperiously raised her to her feet ; 
 then once more he held her against his breast, so that 
 she rested there. 
 
 Suddenly she put him from her, gently yet firmly. 
 
 " Listen to me," she said in an altered tone. " Chris- 
 tian, I love you more than life itself, and all my being 
 cries out to be yours. I am yours, heart and soul and 
 thought ; your kiss is life, your touch is fire, but this 
 cannot be I cannot Oh ! beloved, do you understand ? " 
 
 He stood before her, and for a moment she feared him 
 as a victim fears, and in a flash she realised that if he 
 took her by force she would not resist. 
 
 " Christian Christian, have mercy upon me ! " she 
 said, and held out her hands towards him. " No man 
 would believe me you, even you, will not but to be 
 yours God knows that every drop of blood in me burns 
 as yours does but I cannot " 
 
 He took her hands with ineffable tenderness.
 
 292 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Why, oh ! love of mine ! why ? " he said very gently. 
 
 " If Friedrich were less cruelly treated by destiny I 
 should not have the strength to say you nay," she said 
 brokenly, " but now my pity conquers my love. No, 
 do not misunderstand, for Christ's dear sake, beloved 
 Christian, I love only you on earth, yet my pity stands be- 
 tween me and the fairest happiness I shall ever dream of." 
 
 He gathered her to him as though she had been a tired 
 child, and she lay against his heart. Her hand stole up 
 and touched his face softly. 
 
 " Loved one ! " she said in a low voice. " I have cheated 
 you it is a great cruelty which I am doing you. Alas ! 
 I know it, and yet I could not deny myself this one hour 
 of joy. How could I let you go from me without telling 
 you that I loved you without knowing the rapture of 
 your kiss ? " 
 
 " In your strange logic what is the difference between 
 this and " 
 
 " Oh ! cannot you understand ? " she cried passion- 
 ately ; " alas ! no man could, and I am dealing you agony 
 when I would fain give you heaven ! " 
 
 " Can it never be ? " he pleaded. " Never ? Never ? " 
 
 " How can I tell you ? do not ask me that ! But yes, 
 I can answer you, Christian never while the King is thus 
 unhappy," she said. 
 
 " Then if I win back a kingdom for him ? " he asked. 
 
 " Nay," she answered, " I can make no bargain with 
 destiny. But this remember, that I love you love you 
 with all the passion there is on earth." 
 
 Once more their lips met, and she grew weak. 
 
 "Go beloved as you are strong have mercy go 
 and leave me," she whispered. 
 
 He turned away, went to the window and stood there 
 silent. 
 
 " Christian ! " she said. " Tell me that you do not 
 hate me for this." 
 
 He came to her once more ; his face was white and set, 
 and his eyes gleamed with the torture of his self-control. 
 
 " I love you," he said. " Having kissed your lips how
 
 "AS NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE" 293 
 
 can I ever forget ? Elizabeth you bid me have mercy 
 upon you do you know what you ask ? " 
 
 " I know full well, Christian," she murmured, with her 
 hands hiding her face. 
 
 He flung himself down beside the chair where she was 
 cowering; he tore her hands from before her face, and 
 kissed her madly, 
 
 " Go Christian ! Some day, perchance but now in 
 mercy go ! " she moaned. " Go if you love me." 
 
 He sprang up, and she gazed at him almost with awe, 
 for in the place of the lover she saw a man whose face 
 expressed a grandeur a sternness of renunciation which 
 made of him a being isolated in his nobility. 
 
 " Because I love you," he said gravely, " because I love 
 you as no man hath ever loved, I leave you now." He 
 stood a moment before her, then turned; and it was as 
 though agony had suddenly blinded him, for he groped 
 his way with outstretched arms. On a little table near 
 the door her glove was lying, and his hand touched 
 it. He started, snatched it up and pressed it to his lips, 
 then hid it against his heart, and stumbling like a drunken 
 man, passed out of the room. 
 
 " Christian come back to me ! " she called breathlessly. 
 
 " I cannot let you go come to me " But he did 
 
 not hear. 
 
 The garden door fell to with a little gentle click. 
 Elizabeth heard uneven steps on the pathway, and then 
 she was alone with the fragrance of the lime-blossoms, 
 and the memory of his kiss burning on her lips. She 
 went to the window, and drew back the heavy viol- 
 brown velvet curtain. The garden was silent Christian 
 had gone. Already the grey of dawn streaked the sky, 
 and the lime-trees seemed like tall priests celebrating 
 some mysterious rite of the sacrament of renascent day. 
 
 With infinite sadness Elizabeth Stuart realised that 
 the night was past this one night wherein she had 
 touched the brim of the cup of life this night wherein 
 she had renounced passion for ever.
 
 294 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 The dawn had broken, and already the labyrinth of 
 streets surrounding the markets were peopled with a 
 hurrying stream of fisherwomen from Scheveningen with 
 barrows laden with that silver of the sea, the glittering 
 mass of fish ; with gardeners bringing fresh vegetables ; 
 with peasant-women bearing baskets of eggs, or wheeling 
 little carts filled with round cheeses either golden -rinded 
 as some strange fruit of tropic climes or of clotted cream 
 in massy yellow cakes. It was all commonplace enough, 
 but it was touched with the poetry of early morn, and it 
 charmed the eye with the varying colours of the mer- 
 chandise and the quaintness of the costume of the sellers. 
 The grim walls of the Groote Kerk and the quaint gables 
 of the Rathaus showed mysterious and forbidding against 
 the grey of the sky. Yet, all undismayed, the booths 
 clustered beneath the church's gaunt walls, clinging there 
 insolent with the sanction of long custom. 
 
 There were buxom, laughing fisherwomen with short, 
 bunchy, blue skirts, coloured aprons, and kerchiefs tied 
 over the shining metal snoods which encircled their sun- 
 bleached hair, their ruddy arms bare almost to the shoulder, 
 and their feet encased in seafarers' heavy boots, or clumsy 
 wooden sabots; there were bearded fishermen with blue 
 jerkins, high boots, and knitted caps ; peasant women in 
 the distinctive costume of their villages. 
 
 Suddenly, into this homely, busy scene strode a black- 
 cloaked figure, a tall, slight man with a felt hat pulled 
 down over his eyes. The market-people saw the diamond 
 buckles flashing on his shoes, and noted that, where the 
 cloak fell away, the sheen of a satin doublet betrayed this 
 cavalier to be no early riser but a belated roisterer return- 
 ing from some nocturnal revel. Nevertheless the eager 
 vendors besieged him with demands to buy. 
 
 " See, mijnheer, the excellent carrots ! Will you not 
 bring a bushel home for the stew-pot ? " one cried. 
 
 " Here, pretty sir ! " called an old dame with a basket 
 of green vegetables and flowers, " buy a posey for your 
 good dame," and she thrust into his face one of those 
 tightly bound flower bunches which peasants love.
 
 "AS NEVER MAN HATH LOVED BEFORE" 295 
 
 " Mynheer ! mijnheer ! Butter or fresh milk ! Let me 
 carry a pail for your little ones at home ! " 
 
 With an angry gesture the man pushed on. He was 
 silent before the vendors' importunities, but they followed 
 him, for a gallant was fair game for pleasantry if caught 
 wandering through the town at dawn. 
 
 " Here are ripe apricots ; they are refreshing after tavern 
 drink, Sir Nightbird. Buy some ! " a forward garden- 
 wench called, and clutched at the intruder's cloak. 
 
 " Your pardon, juffrouw ; I have no need of your good 
 merchandise," he said hoarsely, and lifted his broad felt 
 hat from his brow in a courteous salute. The girl fell 
 back, dragged by a man's heavy hand. 
 
 " 'Tis the Halberstadter, let him be," he said gruffly. 
 Who did not know the mad Halberstadter ? He was 
 famous as the devil himself in the Hague, and more 
 easily recognised. 
 
 They let him be, and he stormed on. Hell itself was 
 in his heart, and written on his face was such despair 
 that even the stolid people shrank back from him now 
 that he forgot to draw his hat over his brow. 
 
 " Who knows from what shameful orgy he comes?" they 
 whispered. "Who can tell to what fierce deed he hurries ? " 
 
 The chime of the Groote Kerk jangled out its cracked 
 tune ; then came the deep voice of the church clock pro- 
 claiming the hour solemnly. Ah, God ! Could it be but 
 two hours since he had held Elizabeth Stuart in his arms ? 
 Could it be that in so short a span of time he had ex- 
 changed the hope of rapture for the certitude of despair ? 
 He was indeed an outcast now. What remained to him 
 but madness, shame, death ? 
 
 " The mad Halberstadter ! Oh, protect me ! " called a 
 pert maiden in feigned coyness. He stopped suddenly 
 and glared at her. 
 
 " Oh ! Lud 'a mercy ! what fierce eyes ! You looked 
 not thus when you kissed me at the kermess last year," 
 she said. 
 
 " Kissed you ! God in heaven ! kissed you ! " he cried 
 wildly.
 
 296 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Alack ! he is quite mad, the Halberstadter ! " she 
 sighed, and turned to some rude bantering with a group 
 of loiterers. 
 
 " 'Tis only Mera Loon, the forward hussy ! " muttered 
 an aged crone. 
 
 Yes, he told himself bitterly, he had had truck with 
 such baggages as Mera Loon he had squandered his 
 kisses on such wantons he was smirched body and soul, 
 and it had been defilement for Elizabeth Stuart when he 
 had kissed her lips. And yet she loved him ! But could 
 she know how debased he was, she would turn from him 
 in horror. In his pain he essayed to deny her purity, 
 and even as the ugly thought came to him he loathed 
 himself for it, saw himself as a sacrilegist. 
 
 For long he had wandered aimlessly in the narrow 
 streets, like to some wounded animal ever circling feebly, 
 feverishly on its own tracks. He had passed beneath the 
 windows of slumberous burghers, who, perhaps, had 
 turned lazily in their wainscoted wall-beds hearing his 
 restless tread. 
 
 On, past the markets he hurried, and out into the 
 stillness of the Bosch. He hardly knew what he did 
 was scarcely conscious that he strode onward. The 
 silence in the wood came like a soothing hand on his 
 racked heart. Instinctively he took his way to the 
 beech grove where he had stood with Elizabeth Stuart 
 that night of the alfresco feast ; and here his madness left 
 him, and he flung himself face downwards on the cool, 
 damp moss. For a space he lay there as one dead, then 
 his agony and the sense of his physical defilement reawoke 
 and he wept wildly, painfully, finding no assuagement in 
 tears, as women do, but rather the added torture of the 
 acknowledged abasement which weeping brings to the 
 strong man. 
 
 " To what shameful orgy goes the mad Halberstadter ? " 
 they had said. Alas ! this was his orgy this was the 
 feast of life which destiny held for Christian, the mad 
 Halberstadter, who loved, as he had said, as never man 
 had loved before.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURDS 
 " Tout pour Dieu et pour elle ! " 
 
 WHEN King Friedrich returned from the camp he 
 was vehement in his displeasure at the Halber- 
 stadter's absence. Why had he gone, and where ? 
 It was unmannerly to have departed without bidding his 
 friends adieu. Friedrich took it as a personal affront. The 
 Queen made scant reply to Friedrich' s questions ; she 
 averred that she really knew naught of the Halberstadter ; 
 the night before he left he had been at supper at the 
 house on the Lange Voorhout, more she could not say. 
 
 "You were most likely harsh to my poor friend I 
 cannot comprehend why you always treat him so ill," the 
 King said querulously. For once the Queen made no 
 answer to his fretful speeches. 
 
 He betook himself to the Countess of Nassau, Christian's 
 sister, and complained of the Halberstadter's sudden de- 
 parture ; but here too he was met with vague responses. 
 
 " I begin to mislike the Countess. She assured me that 
 Christian has gone to Brunswick to enrol troops hi my 
 service, but she had a meaning smile on her lips ; I am 
 near sure she knows the reason of his leaving without 
 bidding me farewell," he grumbled to Elizabeth Stuart. 
 
 " I doubt whether her Highness hath more knowledge 
 thereon than you have, dear my lord ; but women's wits 
 are quick," she answered. " Your friend is gone ; must 
 your Majesty inquire further ? " 
 
 For a few days the King kept to his grievance ; and who 
 can tell what it cost the Queen to hide her impatience, 
 into which was mixed an agony of regret, but which she 
 had, perforce, to mask for fear of betraying herself. 
 
 297
 
 298 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Then there came an envoy from King James ; and his 
 mission, by giving Friedrich real cause for annoyance, 
 quelled his discontent with his friend the Halberstadter. 
 The English envoy had been despatched to remonstrate 
 with King Friedrich upon his imprudence in joining 
 Maurice of Orange's camp. In vain the unlucky monarch 
 pleaded that 'twas no shame for a German Prince to bear 
 arms in a famed commander's army, King James had fore- 
 stalled this argument by most excellent reasoning : How 
 could an ambassador, however skilled, negotiate peace for a 
 prince actually in arms against Austria ? How could an 
 emperor, however inclined to leniency, pardon an ex-king 
 and lift the ban from a prince who thus openly showed 
 his intention of recommencing hostilities on the first oppor- 
 tunity ? King James refused to spend money on main- 
 taining so futile an enterprise ; and further, if Friedrich 
 did not immediately conform to his fatherly advice by 
 leaving the camp and keeping quiet in the Hague, the 
 thirty thousand English pounds which had been promised 
 to Elizabeth Stuart would not be paid. 
 
 " Let my father keep his gold ! " cried the Queen, 
 thoroughly aroused by this ungenerous threat. " We will 
 ne'er be bribed." But alack ! Friedrich knew that his 
 treasury was empty, knew, too, that the monthly sum 
 voted by the States-General was all insufficient to pay the 
 outstanding debts in the Hague. It was not enough that 
 Fate had dealt him failure, the humiliation of penury was 
 his as well. Though poverty is in itself no shame, it 
 brings manifold mortifications to a proud spirit. Eliza- 
 beth Stuart offered to sell her jewels. She was told that 
 in war-time rubies, diamonds, and pearls were dross ; who 
 would buy baubles then ? 
 
 " Can I not pawn them ? " cried her Majesty. " I have 
 heard that when none will buy it is always possible to 
 pawn jewels." 
 
 " It is unfitting for a Princess Palatine to pawn any- 
 thing," said Friedrich pompously. " Where learned you 
 such things ? " 
 
 " What matters it where I learned them ? And why
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURUS 299 
 
 should it be unfitting ? Is it a better pride to accept a 
 bribe ? " she asked scornfully. 
 
 Yet resistance was useless, and after days of argument, 
 Friedrich gave in, promised obedience, relinquished his 
 command under Maurice, and the thirty thousand pounds 
 were paid. 
 
 Each day saw the arrival of many refugees at the 
 Hague, men who had served King Friedrich in Bohemia, 
 ruined gentlemen from the Palatinate, whose lands had 
 been devastated by the Spaniards, and even more piteous 
 still, such men as the Lord of Schonaich, he who had be- 
 friended the unfortunate monarch in his dire need in 
 Silesia. It was treason to shelter a man under the ban 
 of the empire, be he robber or king, and all those who 
 had not turned from Friedrich and Elizabeth in their 
 misfortune were declared rebels and their lands were 
 sequestrated by imperial decree. Schonaich, for ex- 
 ample, had been expelled from his house, and had been 
 permitted to bear away nothing save his Bible and his 
 staff. 
 
 " It is thus that the man of God should go forth ! " 
 shouted the soldiery in cruel mockery when the aged lord 
 had craved permission to take at least a change of raiment 
 with him into exile. 
 
 " Aye ! " he had answered proudly, " I go forth with a 
 quiet heart, for he who suffers for his King suffers for his 
 God, and God will never forsake him." 
 
 There were many sad histories of this kind ; there were 
 many brave gentlemen who sacrificed all in a spirit of 
 absolute simple faith. These were the pawns in that vast 
 game of chess where the kings and bishops were moved 
 ruthlessly on the board by the colossus " Ambition " 
 masked as " Religion," playing against the giant " Reten- 
 tion" in cowl and gown and masquerading as "The 
 Faith." 
 
 The Hague was the refuge of all political victims, and 
 King Friedrich's ill-supplied treasury was strained to the 
 last groschen to support them. Sternly King James wrote, 
 bidding Friedrich reduce his Court, but how could he leave
 
 300 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 men to starve who had lost all in his service ? Friends 
 and adherents in England sent small sums or gifts of cloth, 
 linen, books, or wine to Elizabeth Stuart, but such things 
 were insufficient to maintain a Court of over three hundred 
 persons. 
 
 " Courage ! 'tis only an o'er-darkened span of time ! " 
 the Queen told herself, for it was impossible to believe 
 that a Prince Palatine should long be deprived of his lands 
 and revenues he, the richest potentate in Germany to 
 whom the Rhine toll belonged. Was not " Rich as he 
 who owns the Rhine toll" a familiar figure of speech 
 denoting enormous wealth ? 
 
 In the spring of 1622 her Majesty of Bohemia gave 
 birth to a daughter, and Friedrich importuned her to 
 pray the Halberstadter to be the infant's sponsor. 
 Elizabeth Stuart was lying in her velvet-hung bed, above 
 her head were the emblazonad emblems of Bohemia, en- 
 circled by the blue ribbon of the Garter. The Queen's 
 face was fragile and flower-like beneath the heavy waves 
 of her chestnut hair, and her white hands seemed to have 
 gamed an added delicacy a pathetic transparency. At 
 the foot of the bed crouched two small, brown monkeys 
 Jacky, very old and grey nozzled now ; and Master 
 Abraham, as her Majesty had named the new monkey, 
 much to Friedrich's half-amused annoyance, for he knew 
 the Queen mocked Abraham Scultetus by thus naming 
 a monkey after him. 
 
 The King stood beside the bed ; he was very gentle to 
 Elizabeth Stuart, with an almost timid tenderness, as one 
 who would say : " You have given me all things ; I, too, 
 give you all, and yet you have so much more to give that 
 my gift seems paltry." It was, perhaps, by this humility, 
 by this appealing, unspoken avowal of weakness, that 
 Friedrich held Elizabeth Stuart's tenderness, despite his 
 querulous pomposity and his assumption of superiority. 
 She loved him patiently, as a woman loves an ailing 
 child; she was true to him because it had been her des- 
 tiny that this childlike being should be her " man," though
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURUS 301 
 
 he could never have been her mate ! But to consider 
 that would have been disloyal, and a smirch on him in 
 her sight ; and though sometimes she remembered, and 
 her soul grew weary and empty for a moment, she always 
 turned away her thoughts; also, it was useless, and 
 thoroughly English in this, she eschewed the useless 
 instinctively. 
 
 " Let me have those silly beasts removed, dear heart," 
 the king said, as the playful monkeys rolled over like 
 little wrestlers ; " they are crumpling your coverlet." 
 
 " They are well enough, and they divert me," she 
 answered carelessly. 
 
 " Nay, they weary you, and I cannot allow you " 
 
 he began. 
 
 " Oh ! for the dear Lord's sake, leave them be," she said 
 with sudden irritation. " I must know best what wearies 
 me. Nay, be not wounded, Friedrich ; come, give me 
 your hand and tell me of other things," she added hastily, 
 as he drew back offended. 
 
 He smiled; ah ! how piteously childlike women were 
 with their whimsies and their uncalled-for moods, yet 
 'twas surely the man's role to humour them, he thought. 
 
 " I have spoken to you before, sweeting, of my wish for 
 Christian of Brunswick to be this new little maiden's 
 godfather," he said, " and I would fain write this day to 
 tell him we have chosen him." 
 
 A hot flush flooded the Queen's cheek, 
 
 " Why must you insist on this ? " she asked quickly ; 
 " you know I do not wish it." 
 
 " But I wish it, dearling ; and sure you can have naught 
 against my choosing my friend for my child's sponsor ? " he 
 answered. " You can name the other gossips for the babe 
 you know I have no unreasoning dislikes as you have ! " 
 
 " Why do you think that my cousin of Brunswick 
 would wish to be the child's sponsor ? What can it be 
 to him ? " she said in a low, uncertain voice. 
 
 " You know full well that he will account it an honour. 
 And, indeed, are we sunk so low that none should care 
 to be our child's gossip ? " he said bitterly.
 
 302 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " That hath naught to do in the matter," she said. 
 
 " It hath it hath ! " he cried vehemently. " You, 
 too, even you, seek to humble me." 
 
 " Ah ! Friedrich, I humble you ? I ? " she said, and 
 the tears rose in her eyes. Ah ! if she could but tell 
 him make him understand. 
 
 " Friedrich, do not ask the Halberstadter," she whis- 
 pered. She felt that it would be a cruel irony to ask 
 Christian to be sponsor to Friedrich's child it would be a 
 mockery of his pain, of his renunciation, and a hidden out- 
 rage to Friedrich himself, though he would never know it. 
 
 " You go too far," he burst out angrily, " Your dislike 
 of the Halberstadter makes you unjust. The child is my 
 child after all, and if I choose to assert my authority, I 
 can do as I will." 
 
 She nodded. " Yes, the child is your child after all," 
 she said in a strange, quiet voice. 
 
 " So you consent ? That is like your gentleness, sweet 
 Bess," he said, and bending, kissed her on the brow; 
 " and now I go to write to Christian, to acquaint him with 
 the honour I would pay him," he added, and left her. 
 
 For a long time she lay there silent. The casement 
 stood open, and from the Lange Voorhout came the 
 sound of voices and laughter and the rumbling of a 
 carosse. A light breeze stirred the velvet window-cur- 
 tain, and a freshness of spring was wafted in from the 
 trim garden. A bird twittered in the lime-trees, where 
 the foliage wrought a delicate tracery beneath the clear 
 azure of the spring sky. 
 
 " The child is his child after all," she repeated slowly 
 to herself. " Christian Christian ! Will you know that 
 tis not / who deal you this stab ? Will you know that 
 / do not mock you at least ? " 
 
 For many months but scant direct news of the Hal- 
 berstadter came to the Hague. He was in Brunswick, 
 and had issued a manifesto calling to arms all able-bodied 
 men. The Protestant princes affected ignorance of his 
 doings, though the Halberstadter declared that he armed
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURUS 303 
 
 in defence of the threatened Reformed faith, and ap- 
 pealed to all the Protestant rulers to aid him. By 
 December 1622 he had a troop of two thousand men, 
 recruited chiefly from Halberstadt and Brunswick, and 
 both armed and victualled at the Halberstadter's expense. 
 
 He was confronted with the refusal of the Landgraf to 
 allow him passage through Hesse, and of his own brother, 
 Friedrich Ulrich of Brunswick, who forbade him to march 
 through his territories. He saw clearly that to join 
 Mansfeld in the Palatinate, which was of course his object, 
 he must fight his way through Protestant countries, as 
 though his path had been set in an enemy's lands. Now 
 he threw off the disguise and openly avowed that he 
 fought in the cause of Friedrich, King of Bohemia ; that 
 his first object was to save the Palatinate, and that in 
 Friedrich's cause was included the hope of Protestantism. 
 Hitherto his motto had been : " Gottes Freund, des Pfaffen 
 Feind," but now he bound a woman's glove on his helmet 
 with the device : " Tout pour Dieu et pour elle." Thus 
 Christian of Brunswick proclaimed himself Elizabeth 
 Stuart's champion, and thus she learned that he still 
 dreamed of conquering Friedrich's kingdom for her sake, 
 and she thrilled remembering when he had taken the 
 glove which he wore so proudly on his helmet. It seemed 
 to her that, though he sent no word, yet this was his 
 message a message of forgiveness. Peradventure, it 
 told, too, of a mad hope in his heart had he not said : 
 " And if I reconquer a kingdom for him ? " Resolutely 
 she put the thought from her; she had told him she 
 could drive no such bargains with destiny ! 
 
 The Halberstadter stormed through the land, captured 
 Soest, and threatened comfortable ecclesiastical cities. " If 
 your worships fear fire, rapine, and death, pay me a 
 hundred thousand thalers," he told the Jesuits of Pader- 
 born, and they opened their gates, implored for mercy, 
 and paid the Halberstadter his hundred thousand thalers 
 to leave them in peace. 
 
 He thundered on, took Miinster, received more gold in 
 return for hindering his men from plundering the wealthy
 
 304 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 town, and, like a scourge, he passed on triumphant. It 
 was not his plan to settle into some impregnable fortress ; 
 he must gather gold and recruit men, and join Mansfeld 
 in the Palatinate. Already his name inspired such terror 
 that when he appeared before a town the citizens, of their 
 own accord, opened their gates and sued for mercy, offering 
 him solid compensation for his renunciation of plunder. 
 
 Now the aim of the whole Catholic army was to crush 
 this reckless enemy with his small force of some three 
 thousand men, Anholt, the Bavarian General, pursued 
 him and drove him back into Westphalia. Even the 
 Halberstadter dared not attack so mighty a foe, and by 
 April he was forced to retreat to Lippstadt ; but in May 
 he suddenly appeared before the walls of the ecclesiastical 
 town of Fulda, commandeered four hundred thousand 
 thalers, and then marched on and invaded the bishopric 
 of Mainz. A panic seized the Bishop's garrison in Ursel, 
 and they evacuated the town without offering resistance 
 to the Halberstadter, who made a triumphal entry and 
 decided to spend a few weeks in Ursel to repose his weary 
 troops. But the news that Anholt with a large force had 
 arrived in the neighbourhood caused him to push on, in 
 the hope of capturing the town of Mainz. Here, too, both 
 garrison and inhabitants fled at his approach, and he 
 occupied a deserted, though well-provisioned, town. So 
 far Christian with his handful of men had carried all 
 before him, and he sent a glowing account of his success 
 to his sister at the Hague, who hurried to the Queen with 
 the glad tidings. 
 
 But Tilly with a Bavarian army, and Cordova with a 
 large Spanish force, were at Aschaffenburg, thus blocking 
 the road between the Halberstadter at Mainz and Mansfeld, 
 now at Mannheim. Towards the middle of June Tilly 
 advanced past Frankfurt. The Halberstadter knew him- 
 self to be outnumbered by at least six to one, but he pre- 
 pared for battle, instead of slipping across the river Main 
 and making for the Palatinate. His council of war prayed 
 him to follow this course, but who could expect the 
 Halberstadter voluntarily to order a manoauvre which
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURUS 305 
 
 would appear so like flight ? He believed that God 
 would give victory to the champion of Elizabeth Stuart, 
 and the danger of the enterprise but added to his zest. 
 Then, too, his army had grown, for several thousand men 
 had flocked to his standard during the last weeks, and he 
 longed to pit his prowess against such famed commanders 
 as Tilly and Cordova. He left Mainz, and attacked the 
 Imperialists near the township of Hochst. Immediately 
 Tilly's well-directed fire swept the Halberstadter's cavalry 
 from the field, and the Brunswick infantry was thrown 
 into disorder by their comrades' rout ; also the three 
 cannon, which was Christian's whole artillery, proved 
 useless : one gun burst, the other was immediately 
 shattered by the enemy, and the third was no match for 
 the steady fire of Tilly's numerous cannon. Nevertheless, 
 for six hours the desperate hand-to-hand fight continued, 
 before the Halberstadter would sanction the withdrawal 
 of his troops, and when he at last consented, the dis- 
 couraged, weary soldiery were incapable of orderly retreat ; 
 they broke line and fled, and were hewn down by the 
 Bavarians and Spaniards. Christian forded the river and 
 endeavoured to rally his scattered troops for another 
 attack ; but seeing that his army was decimated to half 
 the original number, he at length decided to take advan- 
 tage of the fact that Tilly had ceased to pursue him, and 
 marched southwards to join Mansfeld. For Tilly, fearful 
 that the " mad Halberstadter's " retreat was only a feint, 
 had left the road to Mannheim open. The battle of 
 Hochst was a crushing defeat for Christian, and yet the 
 object of many months of strategy was thereby attained : 
 Christian and Mansfeld were together, and the Imperialists 
 were confronted by a powerful antagonist indeed. 
 
 Friedrich could no longer endure the enforced inaction 
 in the Hague, when he heard that the armies of the 
 Halberstadter and of Mansfeld were united. It meant 
 that a campaign was imminent which would decide the 
 fate of the Palatinate and the future of Protestantism. It 
 was evident that James's Ambassador in Vienna was being 
 duped by the Emperor, whose continued procrastination 
 
 u
 
 306 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 had at length undeceived King James. Obviously Ferdi- 
 nand had no intention either of removing the ban from 
 Friedrich, or of restoring the Palatinate to him. A 
 friendly letter received about this time by Elizabeth from 
 the Infanta Isabella, superscribed : "To the Countess 
 Palatine, Princess of Great Britain," confirmed the im- 
 pression that the Imperial party was decided to withhold 
 from her even the title of Electress. Further negotiations 
 were useless the sword must decide. 
 
 Friedrich left the Hague, and, disguised as a peasant, 
 journeyed to the army. It was a perilous undertaking, 
 for he had to pass through large tracts of country held by 
 the enemy, and he was constantly stopped and questioned 
 by patrolling Imperialists. Once at nightfall in a village 
 hostelry he was interrupted at supper by a company of 
 Bavarians, who invited the young peasant to drink with 
 them. 
 
 " What smooth hands the youth has got ! " they said 
 suspiciously. " Are you a gallant in disguise, perchance, 
 Master Yokel ? " 
 
 But Friedrich succeeded in making them believe that 
 he had been ill for months in France, and was now return- 
 ing to his family near Heidelberg. 
 
 " Are you a heretic, and a friend to the fool Friedrich ? " 
 they asked, and when he hesitated they bade him drink 
 to the downfall of all heretics, usurpers, and enemies 
 of Austria. He complied ; yet this did not satisfy his 
 tormentors, and they bid him vow that Friedrich of the 
 Palatinate was no lord of his, but a sorry knave and a 
 " sheep's head." To this the unfortunate King answered 
 with so forcible an assertion of Friedrich's imbecility, 
 wrongheadedness, and weakness that the half-drunken 
 soldiery let him go, after clapping him roughly on the 
 back, and proclaiming him to be a right good fellow 
 holding sound opinions. 
 
 He reached the army at Germersheim in the Palatinate, 
 where he found the confederate generals, the Halber- 
 stadter, Mansfeld, and the Markgraf of Baden-Durlach, 
 united in name, but entirely divided in spirit. Friedrich's
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURUS 307 
 
 advent did little to improve matters, though he assumed 
 the nominal command of the three contingents. 
 
 The Imperial forces meanwhile had withdrawn south- 
 wards, and Friedrich decided to pursue them into Alsatia. 
 Here he found a devastated country; the plundered villages 
 were smoking ruins, the peasants had fled, the Imperialists 
 had carried away all provisions. At the town of Zabern 
 the Protestant army came upon the first resistance to 
 their unhindered pursuit. The Halberstadter and Mans- 
 feld laid siege to Zabern which, though bravely defended 
 by the Imperial garrison and the citizens, would have been 
 easily captured, when to the surprise and consternation 
 both of the generals and of the whole army, Friedrich 
 suddenly commanded the cessation of hostilities and 
 called a council of war. He now announced that he had 
 received despatches from the English and Danish envoys 
 in Vienna, and that the Emperor had declared he could 
 not even consider the petition of a prince in arms against 
 him. Friedrich informed the Council that the envoys 
 having implored him to abandon the campaign, he had 
 decided to disband his army, to dismiss Mansfeld and the 
 Halberstadter from his service, and to throw himself upon 
 the Emperor's mercy. 
 
 So unwarrantable a desertion on the brink of success 
 seemed incredible to the Halberstadter and Mansfeld ; but 
 when they saw that Friedrich, with the obstinacy of the 
 weak, intended to adhere to this decision they turned 
 from him in scorn. 
 
 " Let him go where he will ! " cried Mansfeld bitterly. 
 " I had liefer serve a knave than a weakling." Chris- 
 tian of Brunswick said nothing ; he walked away from 
 the tent where the council of war had been held ; 
 for two days none saw him, and it was bruited abroad 
 that the mad Halberstadter had killed himself in his 
 anger at King Friedrich's desertion. But on the third 
 morning he came quietly into Mansfeld's tent, and opened 
 a discussion on a question of camp discipline, as though 
 nothing untoward had occurred. 
 
 The Halberstadter and Mansfeld found themselves in a
 
 308 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 desperate strait ; dismissed from the service of the man 
 in whose name they had undertaken the campaign, they 
 had become bandits, marauders in an impoverished 
 country, and being without funds to pay their men 
 they could not disband the army. They proposed 
 now to sell their swords and their troops to the 
 highest bidder. King Friedrich meanwhile was safe, 
 though an unwelcome guest, at Sedan with the Duke 
 of Bouillon. 
 
 The Protestant adversary now paralysed, the Im- 
 perialists returned to the Palatinate, seized Mannheim, 
 wreaked their vengeance upon the defenceless inhabitants, 
 burned, pillaged, harried the whole countryside, and laid 
 siege to Heidelberg. 
 
 Mansfeld, indifferent as to whom he served so long as 
 he could practise the remunerative art of warfare, entered 
 into negotiations with the Emperor ; but Ferdinand, not 
 needing reinforcements at that time, refused the offer 
 of the Protestant ex-leader. Louis XIII. sought to gain 
 both Mansfeld and Christian, to employ them against the 
 turbulent Huguenots, but the Halberstadter vehemently 
 refused to draw sword against his co-religionists. The 
 Infanta Isabella, Governess of the Netherlands, offered 
 two hundred thousand crowns for the two generals and 
 their army ; but Mansfeld found the sum insufficient, and 
 Christian would not fight against Maurice of Orange and 
 a Protestant army. There remained the Duke of Bouillon 
 at Sedan, who was secretly gathering together all mal- 
 contents to join in the Huguenots' struggle against order 
 and Catholicism under the King of France. Maurice 
 of Orange, hard pressed in the Netherlands, offered six 
 hundred thousand gulden to Mansfeld and Christian. 
 The besieged town of Bergen op Zoom could hold out but 
 little longer against Spinola and Cordova with their large 
 Spanish forces, and Maurice realised that even genius and 
 well-trained troops could not contend for long against 
 overwhelming numbers. But Cordova blocked the way 
 between the Netherlands and Alsatia, and the Halber- 
 stadter and Mansfeld, not considering their forces sufficient
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURUS 309 
 
 to risk an encounter with so large an army, decided to 
 march to Sedan. 
 
 On their way thither they made a pleasant little detour 
 on the French frontier, sacked the Abbey of Verdun, and 
 beleaguered Pont a Mousson. There was panic in France, 
 and in Paris it was said that the " German robbers " were 
 making for the capital itself. Bouillon would join his 
 secret allies, and the whole of France would quickly fall 
 into their hands. To hinder this dangerous union of 
 Mansfeld and Bouillon, Louis XIII. despatched an envoy 
 to Mansfeld offering him an enormous bribe to desert the 
 Protestant cause and enter the service of the King of 
 France. Mansfeld hesitated ; his troops were on the point 
 of mutiny, for they had lately reaped but a scant harvest of 
 plunder from the impoverished countries they had occupied. 
 The Halberstadter, albeit he presently remained before 
 Pont a Mousson with Mansfeld, refused to continue a 
 course of dissimulation and indecision, and announced his 
 intention of leading his own troops direct to Sedan to join 
 Bouillon. Mansfeld discovering that, while the negotia- 
 tions between himself and the French Crown hung fire, 
 there was an understanding between France and Cordova, 
 and when he heard that the latter was marching to Pont 
 a Mousson, decided to have done with France, both 
 Catholic King and Huguenot Duke, and to hurry to the 
 aid of Maurice of Orange in the Netherlands. The Hal- 
 berstadter agreed to this, and the approach of the enemy 
 Cordova having banished the mutinous spirit in Mansfeld's 
 army, the two camps were raised, and the Protestant army 
 commenced a forced march northwards. By the end of 
 August 1622 the Halberstadter arrived at Fleurus on the 
 borders of theSpanish Netherlands, and found thatCordova, 
 having outmarched him on the eastward line, had effectually 
 blocked the road to Maurice of Orange. Mansfeld endea- 
 voured to effect a truce, and offered Cordova a bribe to allow 
 him to pass; but the Spaniard refused, well knowing that the 
 bribe, though alluring on paper, had not its counterpart in 
 solid gold, for neither the Halberstadter nor Mansfeld 
 owned a quarter of the sum offered. It was an unpleasant
 
 310 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 situation for the Protestant leaders. Cordova's army was 
 not only larger than theirs, but he had already seized the 
 best strategic position. Also he had a number of abso- 
 lutely fresh troops recently despatched to his aid from 
 Holland by Spinola, whereas the Protestants were not only 
 weary from their enforced march, but again on the point 
 of mutiny. Cordova had seven cannon, and there were 
 but two heavy guns with the Protestant army. 
 
 On the 28th of August, at break of day, Mansfeld sur- 
 prised the Spanish camp. Though he attacked repeatedly 
 and with dauntless courage, he was beaten back with fear- 
 ful loss. Hereupon the Halberstadter with his cavalry fell 
 upon the Spanish rear-guard, and though repulsed four 
 times, he finally succeeded in routing the entire Spanish 
 army; for Cordova, thinking that such reckless courage 
 must surely be inspired by the arrival of unexpected rein- 
 forcements, gave the order to retreat, and pursued by the 
 Halberstadter, the flower of the Spanish forces fled, aban- 
 doning cannon, ammunition, baggage, and the well-filled 
 treasure-carts. Cordova's army would have been anni- 
 hilated had not the timely arrival of three thousand fresh 
 Imperial troops, under General Gouchier, caused the 
 Halberstadter to relinquish the pursuit. 
 
 It was a glorious victory for the Protestants, a victory 
 won not alone over overwhelming numbers, but won in 
 spite of weariness, discontent, and insubordination. It had 
 been the Halberstadter's fiery courage which had inspired 
 his men with magnificent heroism, and when at the end of 
 the battle the officers gathered round him, their enthusiasm 
 was loudly expressed. 
 
 The Halberstadter stood leaning against the pole of his 
 tent, his face was deathly pale, and his brown eyes were 
 wild and brilliant. His buff-leather jerkin was blood- 
 stained, and his steel breastplate dented and tarnished. 
 He had removed his helmet, its weight had left a red weal 
 across his brow, and his short-cropped, brown hair was 
 dank with sweat. With his right hand he clasped the 
 tentpole convulsively, his left hand was hidden in the 
 folds of his sky-blue baldric. He stood silent while the
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURUS 311 
 
 officers praised his splendid dash and prowess. Offended 
 by his taciturnity, they whispered that the mad Halber- 
 stadter had grown madder than ever a great captain, 
 surely, but a madman, they said. Now into the crowd of 
 officers a short, thick-set man pushed his way, a man 
 whose large head and misshapen shoulders gave him a 
 grotesque appearance, but whose sombre, sneering face 
 banished mockery and evoked a sense of fear in his be- 
 holders. The officers fell back, saluting him respectfully. 
 
 " Is his Highness of Brunswick here ? " he said in the 
 melodious quiet voice which always surprised those who 
 first met with Ernest Mansfeld, the bastard son of a noble- 
 man and a dissolute camp-follower, a woman who had borne 
 the ominous name of Dame Krieg Krieg, a strange appella- 
 tion enough for the mother of a man destined to earn his 
 life and renown by the profession of war. Mansfeld came to 
 the Halberstadter, and a smile of singular sweetness lit his 
 harsh features that same unexpected smile which had 
 perhaps explained the fascination of the coarse, ill-favoured 
 camp-follower over many a haughty noble. 
 
 " My Lord Duke of Brunswick," Mansfeld said, and 
 stretched out both hands to the silent man, " the honour of 
 this day is yours alone ! I can claim no part in the winning 
 of the battle of Fleurus. Give me your hands, my lord, 
 that I may have the honour of a brave man's touch ! " 
 
 Slowly the Halberstadter unclasped his hold of the 
 tentpole and reached out his right hand to Mansfeld. 
 The hunchback stood with both hands outstretched, and 
 though he gripped the Halberstadter's right hand warmly, 
 in his generous enthusiasm he would have taken Christian's 
 left hand as well, and his face darkened as the Halber- 
 stadter stood seemingly unresponsive to his warmth. He 
 was always suspicious of insult, this bastard, who had 
 too often drunk the bitterness of humiliation, and the 
 slightest unintentional coldness tasted as gall to him. 
 
 " I came to congratulate your Highness ; I see my 
 intent is misconstrued," he said haughtily, and, dropping 
 the Halberstadter's hand, he would have turned away. 
 Christian's apathy vanished.
 
 312 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " I thank you, my comrade and commander ! " he cried, 
 and his voice trembled as though the tears had risen in 
 his throat. " Honour from so great a captain is more to 
 me than a king's favour." 
 
 Mansfeld's face softened, and once more he held out 
 both his hands impulsively. 
 
 " I cannot give you my left hand, sir," said Christian 
 in a low voice ; " I am a trifle wounded." 
 
 He swayed suddenly, and would have fallen had not 
 Mansfeld supported him. They led him into his tent 
 and gave him wine. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! I crave your pardon for so womanish 
 a spectacle ! " cried the Halberstadter ; " I was weary, 
 and I believe near to swooning. I am restored now, 
 but I pray you send for the surgeon ; my hand needs 
 binding up." 
 
 He lifted his left hand out of the folds of his baldric, 
 and even the war-inured men around him shuddered, for 
 that which had been a hand was now but a lump of 
 blackened and bleeding flesh. Mansfeld, like many a 
 strong man, had all a woman's compassion for physical 
 suffering. With a sure and gentle touch he took that 
 mutilated hand. He bade them bring him water, and 
 he washed away some of the ghastly crust of blood and 
 grime. He knew well enough the excruciating agony 
 which the Halberstadter endured; knew, too, the price 
 which Christian was to pay for the victory of Fleurus. 
 Softly, as a woman speaks to a sick child, he spoke to 
 Christian, and when the question he dreaded came, he 
 answered steadily. 
 
 " Will my hand heal in a few weeks, Mansfeld ? You, 
 who know such things, tell me, will it be covered with 
 unsightly scars ? " As he spoke the Halberstadter's eyes 
 wandered to his helmet, which lay on the rude camp- 
 table, that helmet with the woman's glove and the device : 
 " Tout pour Dieu et pour elle." 
 
 " Your hand will not be scarred," Mansfeld answered ; 
 and Christian did not see how the cruel, dishonest con- 
 dottiere paid him the tribute of tears.
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURUS 313 
 
 " Better death than to be made hideous in a woman's 
 sight," cried the Halberstadter, trying piteously to speak 
 lightly, despite his pain ; and again the brave cheerfulness 
 of his tone caused Mansfeld to turn away. 
 
 The camp surgeon, a grave personage who had learned 
 his skill in the school of Ambroise Pare$, the famed 
 chirurgeon of Henri II., came to the tent. He questioned 
 the Halberstadter quickly. 
 
 " When got your Highness this hurt ? At the outset 
 of the battle ! Hum hum how could you go on, your 
 Highness ? Felt you no pain ? You had no thought for 
 it ! There grip my Lord Mansfeld's arm. I must hurt 
 you." He probed the bleeding flesh with his sharp knife. 
 The Halberstadter set his teeth. 
 
 " It is but a little wound, sir," he said faintly. " I 
 doubt not 'twill heal at once if you pour some salve upon 
 it." The surgeon's eyes met Mansfeld's. 
 
 " Tell him," the condottiere whispered ; " the hero of 
 Fleurus can face anything even this." 
 
 " My Lord Duke," the surgeon said gravely, " this is no 
 little hurt." 
 
 " Will it leave my hand unsightly ? " Christian asked, 
 and again his glance rested on the woman's glove in his 
 helmet. 
 
 " Nay, your Highness, you will have no left hand 
 more," the surgeon answered huskily. 
 
 The Halberstadter looked at him, speechless, for a 
 moment, then he rose stiffly and stood quivering, tense, 
 like some hunted animal at bay and threatened by the 
 outrage of man's cruelty. 
 
 " Say that again," he whispered at last hoarsely. 
 " I did not understand you said ? " 
 
 " I said that no human skill could heal your hand ; the 
 flesh is fouled, and if I leave your hand upon your arm 
 the corruption will spread," the surgeon answered. 
 
 Very slowly the Halberstadter moved across the tent 
 to where his helmet lay upon the rude table, and stood 
 there with his back turned to the surgeon, Mansfeld, and 
 the officers, so that no man saw his face. The surgeon
 
 314 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 made a movement as though to go to him, but Mansfeld 
 caught him by the arm. 
 
 " Leave him be," he muttered ; " he is fighting a more 
 desperate battle than even he hath ever fought." 
 
 After a few moments the Halberstadter turned. His 
 face was livid, but his lips were firm. 
 
 " Is there no other way, Mansfeld ? " he asked quietly. 
 " Is there no pain that I can endure which will save me 
 from this blemish ? Can they not pour gunpowder into 
 the wound, even though I suffer the agony of hell, can 
 no one save me from this shame ? " 
 
 Mansfeld shook his head, and, unabashed by the 
 presence of the officers, he let the tears roll down his 
 cheeks now. 
 
 " There is no other way, hero of Fleurus," he said. 
 
 " Let it be done at once, then," the Halberstadter said. 
 " I thank you for your courtesy in telling me immedi- 
 ately, sir," he added calmly to the surgeon. 
 
 They would have taken him to the Abbey of Fleurus, 
 for the surgeon said that the quiet of a comfortable 
 dwelling-room was necessary for the sufferer. But here 
 the Halberstadter near broke down. 
 
 " Do not mew me in a closed room ! " he pleaded. 
 " Mansfeld, you understand ; tell him how I can bear all 
 things, but not to be put in a sick-room like an ailing 
 woman. I am not ill ! " he cried ; " a misfortune hath 
 befallen me, but I am right well." He who undaunted 
 could face mortal agony, could not face the degradation 
 of sickness. 
 
 " I am right well," he said. " If this thing must be 
 done, let it be done in the fresh air before my tent, and 
 let me have the trumpets and drums to sing me a song 
 of war, so that I may forget to wince beneath Master 
 Baptist's knife." 
 
 " Master Surgeon," said Mansfeld gruffly, " you must 
 do your work where and how his Highness bids you." 
 
 They set a chair and a table before the Halberstadter's 
 tent, and as the sun of the August day sank in fiery 
 splendour, the hero of Fleurus sat there with Mansfeld
 
 THE HERO OF FLEURUS 315 
 
 holding that strong right hand with the short powerful 
 thumb and the long pointed fingers, while stretched across 
 
 the table was the left arm with that other hand 
 
 And the trumpets and drums of the Protestant army 
 blazed forth in a triumph for the glorious victory of 
 Fleurus.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 FAREWELL 
 
 THE Countess of Nassau craved audience of her 
 Majesty of Bohemia. The Queen was but newly 
 returned from riding along the sands of Scheven- 
 ingen and had given orders to be undisturbed, saying she 
 was weary and would rest awhile. She marvelled what 
 should bring Sophie of Nassau at this unwonted hour. 
 The Halberstadter's sister was a frequent visitor at the 
 house on the Lange Voorhout, and the Queen saw her 
 at the few festivities which took place at the Hague 
 since the war had begun, but after the Halberstadter's 
 departure a certain reserve had sprung up between the 
 two ladies. 
 
 " Pray her Highness to await me a short span, Alison," 
 the Queen said. " I will dress quickly and come to her." 
 She rose from the couch whereon she had been resting, 
 and donned a flowing white satin skirt and that little 
 pelisse of azure velvet with the white fur, which she had 
 worn when she had seen the Halberstadter on that 
 summer night, which was ever present in her mind, and 
 yet seemed so strangely unreal to her. 
 
 " I crave your pardon, cousin, if I have kept you 
 waiting," the Queen said, as she entered the oaken 
 parlour. 
 
 " It is I who should pray forgivenness for coming to 
 your Majesty at this hour," Sophie of Nassau said; " but 
 I have neAvs from Germany which you must only learn 
 from my lips." 
 
 " You bring ill tidings, Sophie ? " the Queen said 
 quickly, and her face grew very white. " Tell me I 
 can bear all things save the slow telling of disaster which 
 kindness prompts ! Is my King dead ? " 
 
 816
 
 FAREWELL 317 
 
 " The King ! Nay, ma cousine," the Countess answered, 
 and there was a note of resentment and scorn in her 
 voice ; " the King is right well and safe at Sedan as far 
 as I know, but my brother " 
 
 " Christian ! what ails him ? Quick tell me ! " the 
 Queen cried, and her voice was shrill and tremulous. 
 
 " He is sore wounded, madame. There has been a 
 great victory at Fleurus, which may even turn the tide 
 of misfortune for the Protestants." 
 
 " What of Christian I care no jot for the victory. 
 Sophie, tell me is your brother dead ? " the Queen 
 interrupted almost fiercely. 
 
 Slowly, and in a voice choked with tears, Sophie of 
 Nassau told her of the battle of Fleurus, of how the 
 Halberstadter had won the day by his splendid dash and 
 valour, of how the mutinous troopers had forgotten their 
 ill-will in ardent enthusiasm for so dauntless a leader, 
 and at what a price this youth of twenty-three summers 
 had won the victory. 
 
 " He is so young to be thus maimed," she finished 
 piteously. " Oh ! cousin, it always seems to me that he 
 is still a boy we think so of our brothers. Forgive me, 
 cousin I am weak, I know," and she bent her head and 
 wept. 
 
 The Queen said no word, she sat there as one struck 
 motionless; she pressed her kerchief hard against her 
 lips, and her eyes, wild and strained, gazed out at the 
 lime-trees beyond the garden, as though she saw some 
 fearful scene. His hand that she had loved so that 
 white strong hand with the blue veins his hand which 
 had held her to him on that summer night. She turned 
 sick with an agony of comprehension, not alone of his 
 physical pain, but because she knew that he would deem 
 himself blemished in her sight. 
 
 " Alack ! a poor maimed thing now ! " she remembered 
 he had once said of a man whose foot bad been shot off 
 in some battle. In her overwrought mind she saw the 
 bleeding stump of his arm she saw it hacked, and 
 jagged, and fearful.
 
 318 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Suddenly she sprang up. " How far is Fleurus from 
 here ? " she demanded. " How many days to ride ? " 
 
 Sophie of Nassau looked at her in surprise " Fleurus ? 
 Five or six days to ride, I should say," she answered 
 wonderingly. " Would you send a messenger to my 
 brother, madame ? Ah ! cousin, if you would, I think a 
 word from you would be a surer balsam than a thousand 
 essences." 
 
 The Queen turned away. 
 
 " I would go myself if I were his sister," she said in a 
 low, uncertain voice. 
 
 " What use should I be in a rough camp, madame ? " 
 asked Sophie. 
 
 " Use ! use ! " the Queen turned on her. " What use 
 is life save to give it to those we love ? " All the bitter- 
 ness of unsanctioned love surged in her heart. His 
 sister would blame her did she know the passion which 
 raged in her ; his sister, who gave that good, peaceful 
 affection and would give no more, would blame the 
 woman who yearned to face hardship even shame 
 only to be able to give to the man she loved. She knew 
 that the joy of life is giving, knew, too, that she was 
 debarred from giving. 
 
 " You will not go ? " she said. 
 
 " I fear me Christian would scarce welcome me in his 
 camp," Sophie answered with a little smile. 
 
 " You are right, perchance," the Queen answered. She 
 realised at that moment how those who harbour turbulent 
 passion, how those whom God has made vehement, are 
 usually proved wrong by the quiet wisdom of those who 
 care less, of those who know, as the world deems it, how 
 to care sensibly. With an effort she calmed herself 
 outwardly. 
 
 " Tell me more of what you have heard," she said. 
 
 Sophie of Nassau told her that Mansfeld's letter had 
 been brought to her by a trusty messenger from the Pro- 
 testant camp. She had questioned the man herself, and 
 he had told her many things. Christian had evidently 
 been in a strange mood for many months before the
 
 FAREWELL 319 
 
 battle of Fleurus. The man had said that the soldiers 
 believed his Highness seldom slept, for the torch in his 
 tent was never extinguished till the dawn brought another 
 light. The soldiers had sometimes crept near his tent 
 and watched him sitting, moody and fierce, gazing out into 
 the darkness, or sometimes restlessly pacing, examining 
 his swords or burnishing his helmet or his breastplate. 
 
 " But this is not all," she said ; " I hardly can tell your 
 Majesty " she hesitated. 
 
 " Tell me I am no little maiden to be spared the 
 knowledge of a man's life," the Queen said. " Besides, I 
 am so so true a friend to you and Christian that I 
 would fain know all I can of him." 
 
 " He sends for women from the villages, madame, and 
 they come for the most part right willingly. Well, they 
 are brought to his tent, and the soldiers hear him speak 
 to them, and then then he orders them begone, calls 
 for them to be safely guarded out of the camp. They 
 come from his tent laughing, for he gives them gold and 
 trinkets and fair words but but," she hesitated again. 
 " But that for which they came for which he summoned 
 them that is not. And the soldiers say that the mad 
 Halberstadter was never madder. Alas ! I, too, fear that 
 my brother is insane." 
 
 " What ! do you say so too ? Mad because he will not 
 sink to be a wanton brute ! " said the Queen vehemently. 
 
 " Nay," Sophie answered ; " but mad because, having 
 called for wanton lust, he will have none of it." 
 
 " Oh ! write and tell him that I Sophie Sophie 
 tell him that I honour him that I trust him that all 
 my heart goes out to him. Tell him that I know " 
 She flung herself down in her chair, and covering her 
 face with her hands, wept in an agony of tearing sobs. 
 
 Sophie of Nassau came to her, timidly touched her 
 shoulder, sought to draw her to her, but Elizabeth Stuart 
 put her away. Sophie stood there silently. The Queen 
 loved Christian, she had always known it, with that swift 
 insight which is the inborn lore of woman ; yet she 
 accounted this desperate grieving to be almost unseemly.
 
 320 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " My brother is not dead, cousin," she whispered at 
 length. 
 
 " Worse for him, tell him that I know that but tell 
 him that I give him no pity," the Queen answered 
 brokenly ; but she lifted her head proudly again as she 
 spoke the strange words. 
 
 " No pity ? Surely, cousin, all the world must pity a 
 youth thus stricken," said Sophie of Nassau. 
 
 " Tell Christian that I can never pity where I honour. 
 Oh ! you cannot understand ! But tell him that I should 
 never dare to pity him," the Queen answered. 
 
 " I will write him your strange message, Madame ma 
 cousine," Sophie said coldly, and, after sweeping the 
 Queen a profound curtsey, she withdrew. 
 
 Evil tidings came thick and fast to the Hague. 
 Heidelberg had fallen; Tilly held both castle and town. 
 The treasures garnered there for generations had been 
 sent to Munich, and the books of the famous library, 
 packed in one hundred and eighty-four strong kists, were 
 being despatched to Rome by Maximilian of Bavaria as a 
 gift to the Pope. Holland, too, was in a sorry plight ; 
 Bergen op Zoom, it was said, could hold out little longer ; 
 even Maurice of Orange dared not attack Spinola's over- 
 whelming numbers ; and Holland trembled at the possi- 
 bility of an Imperial and Spanish occupation. The Dutch 
 cursed the poor spirit of Friedrich of Bohemia ; he and 
 his army had been a good decoy, and had diverted at 
 least a portion of the Imperial forces, and now the whole 
 of the enemy's strength was directed against Maurice of 
 Orange. Only one hope remained Mansfeld and the 
 Halberstadter's army. Would they reach Holland in 
 time to save Bergen op Zoom ? 
 
 The King wrote announcing his return to the Hague. 
 He expressed his pleasure at hearing the Halberstadter's 
 wound was healing. He wrote that immediately after 
 Christian's hand had been amputated in the camp 
 at Fleurus, a trumpeter from the enemy had come 
 in, bringing a proposal from Cordova that Christian and
 
 FAREWELL 321 
 
 Mansfeld should surrender and throw in their lot with 
 the Imperialists ; and that the Halberstadter had re- 
 turned the proud answer : " I have but one arm now, 
 but it is my sword arm, and with that I shall ever fight 
 for my God and my Queen only." The King added : 
 " God knows ! I love him as a brother." Elizabeth Stuart 
 smiled a little rueful smile when she read this. Fried- 
 rich's brotherly love had not dissuaded him from dis- 
 missing the Halberstadter in the midst of a campaign ; 
 had not prevented him from turning the man he " loved 
 as a brother" into a condottiere, practically a brigand 
 captain bound to a gang of robbers. 
 
 With terror she realised that she would fain have had it 
 that the King should remain at Sedan away from her. 
 She asked herself if she had indeed sunk so deep into the 
 sands of passion that she had no longer either tenderness or 
 true liking for Friedrich. She schooled herself to be glad 
 at his return he was unfortunate and unhappy, she must 
 give him a measure of joy whatever it might cost her. 
 She knew that he, too, dreaded the return to indebted 
 penury; he had even written how, before certain monies 
 had been paid to her from England, he had feared a 
 sojourn in the debtor's prison of the Hague. No, she 
 would not fail him, would not for honour's sake and for 
 pity. She had a wealth of pity for Friedrich, pity which 
 she could not even associate with the Halberstadter. 
 
 Then when the King returned, her heart went out to 
 him in a glow of generous affection. He was so changed, 
 so worn, so white and hollow-eyed, that she loved him 
 with tenderness, and felt it no disloyalty to Christian 
 to give love to this sad, broken being to him who was 
 her " man," after all. 
 
 Alas ! those who live a double life in their hearts die 
 a double death of agony. No one knows how torturing 
 a task loyalty is, when loyalty is duty, and the whole 
 soul is thrilling with another loyalty, which is love. It 
 made it harder for her to be good to Friedrich when she 
 heard that the Halberstadter was actually in Holland ; 
 and when the bells of the Hague rang out in triumph for 
 
 x
 
 322 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the relief of Bergen op Zoom, it was all she could do to 
 hide her emotion ; for the siege of Bergen op Zoom was 
 raised because Spinola dared not fight the massed armies 
 of Maurice of Orange, Mansfeld and the Halberstadter. 
 Knowing Christian so near, her whole being was in a 
 ferment of yearning, fear, rapture, doubt. 
 
 The King spoke constantly of his wish to see the 
 Halberstadter ; he sent messages praying him to visit 
 the Hague ; even started a wild plan of re-engaging the 
 services of both Mansfeld and Christian, for evidently 
 King James's embassy in Vienna had again failed, 
 and war alone could decide the Palatinate's destiny. 
 Christian returned a courteous and evasive answer ; 
 he could scarce hope to be able to leave his army, and 
 thus he durst not promise to journey to the Hague ; as 
 for re-entering Friedrich's service, he was eager to fight 
 in his cause, but he was bound to stipulate for a regular 
 payment of the troops, as his own treasury was now 
 empty. King Friedrich, as usual, had no money, and 
 thus the project was abandoned. The tardy payment of 
 the six hundred thousand gulden promised by the States- 
 General for the services of the Halberstadter and Mans- 
 feld, was causing a spirit of mutiny in the army, for, being 
 in a friendly country, the soldiers were forbidden to 
 plunder. The Dutch, however, were now anxious to be 
 rid of their allies, for despite the orders of their com- 
 manders the men-at-arms, having no other means of 
 subsistence, plundered in secret. Finally the States- 
 General, through Maurice of Orange, promised immediate 
 payment on the condition that both the Halberstadter and 
 Mansfeld, with their armies, should forthwith leave the 
 country. Mansfeld now proceeded to carry out a plan 
 which had long lain hidden in his mind. Under the 
 pretext that Count Enno of East Friesland, an allied 
 Protestant Prince, was in treasonable communication 
 with Spinola, he marched to East Friesland. The ex- 
 ample of Bethlem Gabor, who, from being a condottiere 
 and adventurer, had risen to be King of Hungary, worked 
 potently in the minds of most of the great captains of
 
 FAREWELL 323 
 
 the day ; and Mansfeld dreamed of wresting East Fries- 
 land from Count Enno, and proclaiming himself prince 
 of that small country. 
 
 The Halberstadter with his men retired to his old van- 
 tage-ground between Paderborn and Lippe, and entered 
 the service of those Protestant Princes of that neighbour- 
 hood, his own brother Friedrich Ulrich of Brunswick and 
 George of Celle, who were arming in case the adherents of 
 the Protestant faith should be attacked by the Emperor. 
 They justified this proceeding by declaring that, though 
 presently at peace with his Majesty, they deemed it ex- 
 pedient to have a powerful defensive army in the field, 
 though they wished it to be clearly understood that their 
 intentions were defensive, and in no way offensive to their 
 liege lord, the Emperor. Sick at heart, the Halberstadter 
 saw himself drawn into a maze of intrigue. He, who was 
 uncompromising by nature, was expected to fall in with 
 the compromises of half-hearted self-seekers, men who 
 talked of the Protestant faith, of their neutrality, of their 
 obedience to the Emperor, and were, all the time, secretly 
 arming in case it might suit their policy to attack his 
 Majesty's forces. Meanwhile Tilly, with a large Imperial 
 army, waited in the neighbourhood, and the Protestant 
 Princes were occupied with prolonged negotiations for the 
 Imperialists' departure. 
 
 Celle then became reconciled with the Emperor, and 
 the Halberstadter was commanded to disband his forces 
 and fling himself upon Ferdinand's mercy. Once more 
 he stood alone ; those he had served repudiated him. In 
 July 1623 he decided to march back to the Netherlands, 
 but ere he left he formally renounced his administrator- 
 ship of Halberstadt, in order that the Protestant Princes 
 could continue their negotiations with the Emperor un- 
 trammeled by his right as administrator to participate in 
 their treaties. Christian was again forced into the posi- 
 tion of a marauder, of an unemployed soldier of fortune 
 at the head of a robber band. He was an outlaw, too, 
 being under the ban of the Empire, and the word had gone 
 forth that Tilly was to destroy him.
 
 324 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Hard on the heels of the Halberstadter's small army 
 followed Tilly with his hosts. The pursuit became 
 desperate from pass to pass, from ford to ford, the 
 relentless foe pressed him. After a few days' forced march 
 the Halberstadter dared not even pitch his tents at night ; 
 it was only possible to snatch an hour's halt for the much- 
 needed repose, and even thus the enemy's foreguard con- 
 stantly harried his rear-guard. God alone knew how 
 bitter it was to him to fly thus before the foe, but he durst 
 not risk a battle he was outnumbered by ten to one. 
 Near the township of Stadtlohn, on the borders of the 
 Netherlands, Tilly fell upon him. Desperately Chris- 
 tian and his men fought against the overwhelming 
 odds. With Tilly's numerical superiority the battle's 
 issue was a foregone conclusion, yet each man in the 
 Halberstadter's army knew that in victory lay his only 
 hope of life, for those who fought under the outlaw were 
 outlaws and could expect no mercy. For seven hours the 
 battle raged. The Halberstadter, it was said, fought not 
 like a man but like a devil, yet it was of no avail the 
 flower of his army was cut down, and the remainder, 
 broken by fatigue, fled in disorder, carrying away Christian 
 himself in the fugitive stream. Young Thurn, who had 
 fought bravely at his side, was sore wounded. He prayed 
 Christian to abandon him, and to endeavour to rally the 
 remnant of his army for a renewed attack, but the Hal- 
 berstadter knew that Bernard Thurn would share the fate 
 of the Bohemian patriots did he fall into his Apostolic 
 Majesty's hands, and he refused to leave him. Despite 
 the rush of the panic-stricken soldiery, he succeeded 
 hi staying beside the wounded man's rude stretcher, 
 and at nightfall the melancholy little cortege arrived 
 at Arnhem. In the town were many fugitives, and 
 the Halberstadter immediately set about reforming his 
 army, but there was scarce a full regiment left. At last 
 the giant power of Austria had indeed crushed Elizabeth 
 Stuart's champion. 
 
 The Halberstadter and his remnant of an army took 
 service with the States-General, and again in the autumn
 
 FAREWELL 325 
 
 of 1623 Elizabeth heard that the man she loved was in 
 Holland. 
 
 The defeat of Stadtlohn was followed by the defeat of 
 King James's diplomacy. Prince Charles and Bucking- 
 ham returned from their romantic journey to Spain with- 
 out the Infanta, and bringing bad news of the negotiations 
 for the restitution of the Palatinate. Buckingham had 
 offended both statesmen and courtiers ; Charles had made 
 specious promises anent the English Catholics, which no 
 one expected him to fulfil. Now was started a scheme 
 whereby Prince Hal, Elizabeth's eldest son, was to be 
 affianced to an Austrian Archduchess and educated hi 
 Vienna. If this was arranged, Philip of Spain undertook 
 to procure the immediate restoration of a portion of the 
 Palatinate to Friedrich, and promised that at the death 
 of Maximilian of Bavaria, Prince Hal should succeed to 
 the Electorate. Obviously the secret scope of this plan 
 was the conversion to Catholicism of Prince Hal by his 
 education in Vienna, and thus the ultimate imposition of 
 a Catholic ruler upon the Palatinate. Friedrich, as in 
 honour bound, refused this proposal, and Elizabeth Stuart 
 expressed herself in vehement terms on the subject. She 
 would liefer die, she said, than see her son a Catholic ; to 
 pay such a price, even for home and affluence, would be a 
 base desertion of Friedrich's vow to be the champion of 
 Protestantism. The hope of a peaceful restoration of 
 the Palatinate grew faint after this refusal, although the 
 negotiations in Madrid dragged wearily on for some months. 
 
 During that summer the Queen had given birth to her 
 fifth son, Louis. The child was weakly and ailing, and 
 Sophie of Nassau, who had lately been much with the 
 Queen, thought that the restlessness which during the 
 last year had tortured Elizabeth had had an ill effect 
 on the little one. The Countess of Nassau guessed that 
 Elizabeth, despite her outward, smiling calm, was rent by 
 yearning and racked by hope when she knew the Hal- 
 berstadter to be in Holland glad and yet heartsore when 
 she knew him gone to the wars again. There was no 
 mention of all this in the ladies' talk, but since the day
 
 326 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 vrhen the Countess Sophie had told the Queen of the 
 battle of Fleurus, there had been an unspoken under- 
 standing between them, and Sophie had brought the 
 Queen those few laconic messages which the Halber- 
 stadter wrote to his sister. She had seen her flush, and 
 her brown eyes glow, when she read the formal message : 
 " I pray your Grace to tell the Queen that I am ever her 
 faithful servant to serve her," or " Je suis comme toujours 
 le serviteur de la Belle Royne," or " Je voudrois s^avoir si 
 sa Majeste veult byen penser maintes fois a son serviteur." 
 Sophie of Nassau, womanlike, wrote more freely to her 
 brother ; she told him openly that " la belle " always 
 spoke of him, that never a day passed where she did not 
 inquire if she had tidings of him. But the Halberstadter 
 the silent one, as the Queen had called him was 
 characteristically reserved ; probably, with the ostrich-like 
 instinct of the man who loves, he deemed that no one 
 guessed his passion. 
 
 One October day the Queen rode out to a hawking- 
 party in the woods beyond the Bosch. The King, again 
 feverishly occupied with a new scheme for recovering the 
 Palatinate, was busy with affairs of State, and had not 
 accompanied her Majesty. Elizabeth welcomed any pro- 
 ject which gave Friedrich occupation. It was piteous to 
 see him wandering disconsolately beside the Vijver, pacing 
 along the Voorhout dejectedly, or talking with futile 
 pomposity to some equally futile, pompous diplomatic 
 agent, debating the schemes of nations wherein he, 
 Friedrich, had no longer a voice, but wherein he had be- 
 come a pawn or a pretext behind which matters of real 
 import were negotiated. Thus, when some European 
 complication gave him the opportunity to write despatches 
 endeavouring to annex the interests of the Palatinate to 
 the negotiations of some vaster enterprise, the Queen 
 rejoiced. 
 
 It was a still, autumn day ; the air smote fresh and cool 
 as a draught of forest water ; the sky was grave, but 
 friendly and suave. The beech-trees in the Bosch were 
 already stripped of that glory of colour which, but a few
 
 FAREWELL 327 
 
 weeks since, had clothed them so regally. Now they 
 stood bereft and gaunt, their branches like mighty snakes 
 smooth and satin-skinned, and at their roots a carpet 
 of russet leaves exhaled the fragrancy of autumn. The 
 Queen rode her favourite chestnut mare, a being as 
 haughty and sensitive as herself, eager and nervous yet 
 perfectly understanding the light, strong hand which held 
 the reins. All her Majesty's ladies were of the party : 
 my Lady of Solms, Lady Phyllis Devereux, Mistresses 
 Alison Hay, Stanley, and Clovelly; and there was, too, a 
 new visitor at her Majesty's Court, Mademoiselle de la 
 Tre'mouille, daughter of the old Electress Juliane's sister, 
 the Duchesse de la Tremouille, and thus cousin to King 
 Friedrich. This Charlotte de la Tremouille was a proud 
 and spirited damsel, truly after the Queen's own heart, 
 with something a trifle like a gallant in her bearing. 
 My young Lord Strange, son of the Earl of Derby, sojourn- 
 ing at the Hague to offer his homage to her Majesty, was 
 there, and his eyes seldom left Mademoiselle Charlotte. 
 The Queen smiled to herself as she saw this dawning love. 
 Young Strange was something like Christel she thought, 
 and she sighed remembering how Christel still languished 
 in prison at Vienna. Albeit Elizabeth Stuart was bravely 
 gay, sad thoughts often assailed her. Life and Death 
 had both conspired to rob her of familiar friends. Lady 
 Harrington had died in England some few months since ; 
 Schomberg had fallen at the battle of the White Mountain ; 
 Mistress Anne Dudley was dead ; Christel was in prison ; 
 and the Halberstadter alas ! Life divided her from him 
 as relentlessly as Death itself. A gay voice broke in on 
 her sorrowful pondering. 
 
 " Madame, we shall have wedding bells here, for sure ! 
 Look at Strange's face, and our cousin Charlotte is right 
 gentle to him ! " It was Magnus of Wirtemberg who 
 spoke. He had escaped from " the appalling worthiness," 
 as he said, of Stuttgart's Court, and had come for a short 
 visit to Holland, for although he had momentarily laid 
 down his arms, this " merry Andrew's " friendship for the 
 exiled monarchs was unwavering.
 
 328 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Magnus and the Queen fell a-talking of the days at 
 Prague, and, despite the sadness of those memories, 
 Elizabeth could not forbear laughter when Magnus re- 
 called the matrons with their loaves, or mimicked 
 Master Scultetus. 
 
 They rode on, laughing and talking, till they reached 
 the place appointed for the hawking, and then all other 
 thoughts were banished by the amusement of the sport. 
 
 The autumn evening was drawing in as they started 
 homewards. Once more Duke Magnus rode beside the 
 Queen, the rest of the party followed at some distance. 
 Suddenly they heard the sound of galloping in one of the 
 grass rides beside them, and a horseman dashed up to 
 the Queen a man in a green riding jerkin, and across 
 his breast a sky-blue baldric in whose folds his left hand 
 was hidden. His felt hat was drawn deep over his brows. 
 The Queen's horse, startled by the rider's approach, broke 
 into a gallop. At first Magnus spurred beside her, then, 
 with an exclamation of surprise and a hurried lifting of 
 his wide felt hat, he wheeled round and rode back towards 
 the hawking party. 
 
 There was something strangely dreamlike to Elizabeth 
 Stuart in this unexpected interruption of the familiar 
 monotony of commonplace life. In the man with the 
 felt hat drawn over his brow, she had immediately recog- 
 nised the Halberstadter, and although she had believed 
 him to be far away on the German frontier, his constant 
 presence in her thoughts made his unexpected advent 
 seem but the logical and natural continuance of her 
 mental life. 
 
 For some time they galloped on in silence. The silvery 
 beech-trunks seemed to rush past them. At length the 
 Queen checked the horse. 
 
 " Christian, for God's sake, speak to me ! " she cried. 
 " I can bear it no longer. Beloved beloved ! speak 
 to me!" 
 
 He drew rein beside her. He was white to the lips, 
 and his brown eyes searched her face hungrily as though 
 he sought to read her soul there, but he spoke no word.
 
 FAREWELL 329 
 
 " Speak to me, Christian," she repeated tremulously. 
 " I cannot bear to see you so. Ah ! I love you, love of 
 mine speak to me ! " 
 
 " I am as one struck dumb," he answered hoarsely. 
 
 " Then I must speak for us both," she said, " silent 
 one my silent one ! " There lay such a world of tender- 
 ness in her voice as she called him by this name, which 
 she had so often used in jest in the old days, that a half- 
 sob rose in his throat. 
 
 " I am a fool who cannot speak when feeling is so 
 great," he muttered. 
 
 " It was always thus," she answered, with a little 
 wavering smile. " Oh, Christian ! the days have been so 
 long without you ! why have you not come to me before ? 
 Alas ! you make me all unwomanly, for I must woo you 
 as you should woo me ! But Christian " how she lingered 
 over that well-loved name " Christian, our wooing days 
 are over or have never been. I only know that I love 
 you." 
 
 " Do you dream that I have forgotten ? " he broke in. 
 " Elizabeth, I have known no thought save the love of 
 you ! Would that I could tell you ! " 
 
 " I know already," she said, and through her mind there 
 flashed a picture of what Sophie of Nassau had told her 
 of the camp and the Halberstadter's tent beneath the 
 night sky of the peasant women brought thither of 
 their mockery when they were dismissed of how men said 
 the Halberstadter was mad because he would no longer sink 
 to debauchery ; would not, because he loved her as " no 
 man had ever loved before," as he had once said. 
 
 " Christian, I know right well that you have had no 
 thought save of me," she said. " Oh ! that I could make 
 it clear to you how you, and only you have reigned in my 
 heart day and night," she finished bravely, though the 
 blood rushed hotly to her cheek at this avowal. 
 
 Their eyes met and drew their souls together with the 
 power of passion. 
 
 " You will not leave me now," she whispered. " You 
 will come to the Hague "
 
 330 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " No," he said sternly, " I can never come to you until 
 I have won back a kingdom for you." 
 
 " What do I care for a kingdom ! " she cried vehemently. 
 " I can never let you go from me again never never ! " 
 
 He shook his head, and then as though some new 
 thought stung him to madness, he spoke quickly, almost 
 roughly. 
 
 " Perchance because I am so maimed a creature, so 
 unsightly now, you deem I can take the place of some 
 tame house friend you offer me pity and the King's 
 kindness," he added bitterly. 
 
 "You are unjust, Christian," she said proudly, " unjust 
 and ungenerous to me." She glanced over her shoulder ; 
 she dreaded lest the other riders should interrupt this 
 meeting which she thought was, perhaps, her last with the 
 man she loved. She saw that Magnus was leading the 
 cavalcade down another road, and she blessed him for it 
 in her heart, as though he had given her a great gift. 
 
 " Christian ! " she said, and her voice had grown in- 
 finitely tender again ; " do not waste the precious moments 
 we have together by such vain things. I love you, and 
 all my soul is athirst to hear you say you love me ! 
 Ah ! I know it but I must hear it again we women 
 must " 
 
 " I love you ! " he broke in ; " through life and in death 
 I must always love you, Elizabeth." 
 
 " When will you come back to me ? " she asked piteously. 
 
 " If, and when God wills it," he made answer solemnly. 
 
 For an instant silence fell between them. Far away 
 a rook cawed hoarsely, and nearer hi the wood there came 
 the sharp yap of one of the hunter's dogs. 
 
 " The hawking party will rejoin us in a moment," she 
 said hurriedly. " There is one thing I would ask you, 
 Christian. Give me something you have worn a ring 
 a chain it matters not ; but I would fain have some- 
 thing to keep by me always, till we meet again. It would 
 be my talisman." 
 
 He glanced down at his ringless right hand which held 
 the reins. He was not a man to wear trinkets.
 
 FAREWELL 331 
 
 " All ! " he said, remembering suddenly, " I have the 
 chain with the little jewel which my mother gave me. 
 You will see why I wear it." With a dexterous 
 movement of his one hand he twisted the reins around 
 the pommel of his saddle, and unfastened the breast- 
 buttons of his jerkin. Somehow his quick dexterity with 
 his one hand brought home anew to her the tragedy of 
 a man so strong and adroit being maimed as he was, and 
 the tears rose in her eyes. 
 
 He was fumbling with the clasp of the chain around 
 his neck now, and she saw how instinctively he made 
 a movement with his left arm that arm whereon there 
 was no hand. She bent forward in her saddle and would 
 have aided him, but he shot her an almost hostile look, 
 and violently wrenched the chain in twain. She held out 
 her hand, and he laid in it a slight golden chain and 
 a little crystal jewel whereon was engraven the name 
 " Elizabeth." 
 
 " You see why I have worn it," he said. 
 
 She nodded. A wave of sadness drowned all speech 
 for her, yet she yearned to cry out that all the world might 
 go hang Friedrich her children duty honour . 
 She loved him, and nothing else on earth counted. 
 
 Close among the trees she heard the sound of laughing 
 voices and the tramp of horses. 
 
 " They are coming," she said, " Christian ! Christian ! " 
 
 " Give me your hand let me feel your touch once 
 more." There was no pleading in his tone, rather a 
 command. 
 
 She drew off her leather gauntlet and reached him her 
 warm, strong white hand. 
 
 He bent over and took it in his right hand she was 
 on his left side, and once more piteously she realised his 
 grievous hurt but all thought vanished as his touch 
 came on her. 
 
 " Christian ! " she murmured in a weak, shuddering 
 voice, " Christian, my beloved " 
 
 He crushed her palm to his lips she saw how he closed 
 his eyes while he drew in the fragrance of her skin, and
 
 332 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 then the throb of her own passion surged in her and shut 
 out consciousness for an instant. 
 
 " Farewell, Queen of all my life ! " he said. He urged 
 his horse to a gallop, and dashed down the grass ride. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart watched him go, and it seemed to her 
 that the soft autumn had changed to cold darkness, as 
 though the world's light had died suddenly for her. 
 
 " We have found a good place for flying the young 
 hawks, madame," came a merry voice close to her. 
 
 " I thank you for much, Magnus," she said simply.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 " IF LOVE BE DEAD, WHY DOST THOU RISE, SUN ? " 
 
 " I think of thee, lost love, and testify 
 
 The present pain cheap price for the dear past ; 
 Though Fate through life all comfort should deny, 
 And after death my loneliness still last, 
 'Tis better to have held thee once so fast 
 Than die without thy love, as others die." 
 
 PHILIP BOUBKE MARSTON. 
 
 THE Queen had passed through an o'erdarkened 
 spell since that day when she had ridden with 
 Christian in the autumn woods. Her baby son, 
 Louis, had died ; pestilence had raged in Holland ; money 
 was more than ever scarce ; and the King's creditors at 
 the Hague, knowing how faint had grown the hope of 
 the Palatinate's restitution, became anxious and pressed 
 for payment. 
 
 " It seems as though God's bounty is bestowed upon 
 us only in childbirth," the Queen had said half-bitterly, 
 half-humorously, when her sixth son, Edward, was born 
 in the autumn of 1624. 
 
 The exiles' political horizon was blacker than ever. 
 The Palatinate, though still overrun by Imperial troops, 
 was now officially a portion of Maximilian of Bavaria's 
 domain, and he was universally recognised as Elector in 
 Friedrich's stead. 
 
 Towards the end of 1624 the gloom was lightened, 
 and once more the exiles' hopes revived. The failure of 
 the Spanish match induced King James to sanction a de- 
 claration of war against Spain, with the avowed intention 
 of delivering the Palatinate from the Imperial allies, and 
 both Mansfeld and the Halberstadter were engaged by 
 
 333
 
 334 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 England for the enterprise. Mansfeld repaired to the 
 Court of France to solicit assistance in the forthcoming 
 campaign, and the Halberstadter journeyed to England. 
 It was pleasant to Elizabeth Stuart to know him to 
 be a visitor in the home of her childhood, and she 
 rejoiced when she heard of the fulfilment of her re- 
 quest to King James that he should be a Knight 
 of the Garter. She told herself that all this was of 
 happy augury. She was assured that her sojourn at 
 the Hague would soon be ended; she would return to 
 Heidelberg, and the good days of peace and plenty would 
 come again. Often she had remembered the autumn 
 evening when she had bidden farewell to her orchard 
 at Heidelberg, and had seen that uncanny procession of 
 Neckar newts; with an eerie feeling she had recalled the 
 gardener's words : " They say the nasty efts march to a 
 funeral, or to bid farewell to one who will never return 
 to this country." It had seemed to her that she should 
 indeed never see Heidelberg again, but now she smiled 
 at her own despondency. England was at last in arms 
 in the Palatine cause, Denmark had joined the enterprise, 
 and the Halberstadter was to fight for her. 
 
 A matrimonial scheme was a-foot for Prince Charles 
 with Princess Henriette Marie, sister to Louis XIII. of 
 France, and England had concluded an alliance with 
 Holland, wherein one of the chief clauses was a definite 
 promise of financial and military aid in the forthcom- 
 ing campaign. England, France, Denmark, and Holland 
 would surely prove too powerful a combination for Austria 
 and Spain. 
 
 In February, 1625, Mansfeld and the Halberstadter 
 marched to the assistance of the Dutch, but before they 
 reached the scene of action the town of Breda had fallen 
 before the victorious Spinola. The Protestant army now 
 moved southwards towards the Palatinate, but found their 
 progress blocked by Anholt with the Bavarian army. 
 
 In the March of that year King James died. Though 
 Elizabeth Stuart mourned him dutifully, still it was with 
 renewed confidence that she knew her brother to be on
 
 "IF LOVE BE DEAD" 335 
 
 the throne of England ; for Charles had ever professed 
 the most faithful affection for her, and she knew how he 
 had always opposed his father's dilatory, half-hearted 
 foreign policy. But her perfunctory mourning was turned 
 to real sorrow a few weeks later by the death of Maurice 
 of Orange. He had been a true friend to her from the 
 moment when she had landed in Holland, journeying to 
 Heidelberg, and, in the day of her dire need, when she 
 had come to Holland a homeless exile, this uncouth warrior 
 had shown her a chivalrous devotion. 
 
 On his deathbed Maurice had advised his brother and 
 heir, Frederik Hendrik, to follow the dictates of his 
 heart, and to make Amalia Solms his wife; and thus 
 hardly were the magnificent obsequies which the States- 
 General gave to their gallant Stadthouder concluded, 
 when the wedding bells for the new Stadthouder rang 
 out. The Queen had always predicted this marriage, 
 and she silenced my Lady Phyllis when she mocked the 
 affianced Amalia's self-conscious superiority of manner. 
 
 " Phyllis, Phyllis, I would I could see you all thus 
 safely married," the Queen said gravely. 
 
 "But not to a Prince Frederik Hendrik!" Phyllis 
 retorted. 
 
 " Dulness is not always the worst fault in a husband," 
 replied Elizabeth Stuart. " Frederik Hendrik is very solid 
 in mind." 
 
 " Oh ! and in body too ! " cried Phyllis gaily. " They 
 will be like a pair of heavy Flemish horses, madame ! " 
 
 " Good lack, girl ! they will protect virtue even in its 
 most unalluring form ; romance and wild ambition will 
 hide from them " she smiled and sighed at once " and 
 that is better for a country's ruler than soaring plans 
 and failure." 
 
 But the Princess Amalia was to deal a blow to the 
 Queen's pride which caused her Majesty bitter anger. 
 Hardly were Prince and Princess Frederik Hendrik settled 
 at the Binnenhof, when Amalia requested an audience of 
 the Queen. This formal demand from one who had lived 
 so long on the most informal footing with her, surprised
 
 336 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the Queen, yet she made ready to receive her Highness 
 of Orange, as desired, in official audience. 
 
 She assembled her ladies and the gentlemen of her 
 Court around her, and awaited the new Princess's advent. 
 
 " Phyllis, if you laugh I vow I shall dismiss you from 
 my service," the Queen whispered as the parlour door 
 was thrown open. She rose and swept a profound curtsey 
 to Amalia, who responded by a deep obeisance. 
 
 " It is a pleasure to me to receive your Highness," the 
 Queen said gravely. Amalia glanced at her suspiciously ; 
 she knew Elizabeth Stuart too well to believe her gravity 
 to be genuine. 
 
 "I thank your Majesty," she answered. "Ah! good- 
 day, Lady Phyllis ; good-day, ladies." 
 
 " Good-day, your Highness," returned Phyllis haughtily. 
 
 " As I have a matter of importance to discuss, madame, 
 I would crave your Majesty to speak with me in private," 
 continued Amalia, growing very red. The Queen raised 
 her eyebrows, but turning to her ladies, prayed them to 
 leave her alone with her Highness of Orange. 
 
 " Oh ! for the dear God's sake, Cousin Amalia ! " the 
 Queen broke forth as soon as they were alone, " must we 
 mince and bow as though we were strangers ? " She held 
 out her hand frankly: " Where formality dwells no 
 friendship is possible," she said. 
 
 Amalia made no answer ; she took the Queen's hand 
 shyly and stiffly, and looked embarrassed. 
 
 " What is this matter which you would discuss ? " the 
 Queen asked, after a moment's pause. 
 
 " Your Majesty, it is irksome to me," began Amalia. 
 She paused again, for the Queen's foot tapped the floor 
 impatiently. " Very irksome," she continued. 
 
 " Well, what is it, then ? Have you discovered that 
 your marriage is not legal ? Or do you propose to declare 
 war between Holland and Bohemia ? " Elizabeth asked 
 mockingly. Amalia's long histories before she got to the 
 real business of the day, had always irritated the Queen. 
 Her Majesty had all the impatience of a quick and direct 
 nature ; she was wont to say with an echo of her Scotch
 
 "IF LOVE BE DEAD" 337 
 
 nurse's phraseology : " I can't abide the fecklessness 
 of these German women. They clack and whimper and 
 never get to the day's work until they have frowsed them- 
 selves into unsightly dullards ! " 
 
 She sat down, and, leaning her arm on the table, rested 
 her chin in her hand. Amalia looked around, and seated 
 herself in the King's chair, which stood at the farther end 
 of the table. She was Princess of Orange* now, she re- 
 membered, and did not need the Queen's permission to 
 be seated in her presence. 
 
 " Well, cousin ? " said the Queen, after another pause. 
 
 " It is irksome to me, madame," said Amalia again. 
 
 " So your Highness has had the goodness to inform me 
 twice, I think," the Queen said icily. 
 
 " It is about the carriages, madame the Stadthouder's 
 equipages," Amalia said ; " your Majesty has some of 
 them now." 
 
 " Yes ? " said the Queen wonderingly. She had used 
 the Stadthouder's coaches for over four years now, and 
 the habit of four years is as powerful as the habit of a 
 lifetime. " Yes, I have some of the carriages ; what of 
 that ? " she asked. 
 
 " Prince Maurice, my husband's sainted brother, was 
 unmarried," continued Amelia Solms. 
 
 " Amalia ! " cried the Queen, laughing, " have mercy on 
 me and tell me something I do not know ! " 
 
 " The present Stadthouder is married, and his wife has 
 need of carriages, madame ; that is all," Amalia said shrilly, 
 and her fair-skinned face grew pink-mottled with anger. 
 
 " Of course, of course," the Queen said soothingly ; " but 
 what has that to do with me ? " 
 
 " Madame, we live in troublous times ; all the gold 
 is needed for the army's maintenance ; more carriages 
 for the Stadthouder's use cannot be purchased, and 
 I fear the coaches your Majesty has now, can no 
 longer be at your disposal I regret it," Amalia finished 
 awkwardly. 
 
 The Queen rose. The colour had left her face, and 
 her eyes had grown hard. 
 
 Y
 
 338 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Is this a ^essage from your husband, the Stadt- 
 houder ? " she queried coldly. 
 
 " I spoke with the Prince of Orange on the subject. 
 Of course I could settle nothing without my dear husband's 
 consent, niadame. He is very generous and would have 
 waived the question for a time, but we have agreed that 
 such arrangements must end before their long continu- 
 ance has caused them to become precedents," Amalia 
 said, grown quite courageous now that she had dealt 
 her blow. 
 
 The Queen knew full well what was implied by this 
 talk of precedents. Amalia meant that the loan of the 
 carriages must be withdrawn, lest the exiles should con- 
 sider this charity to have become their right. 
 
 " I understand perfectly, your Highness," said the 
 Queen haughtily ; " you need express no regret," she 
 added, as Amalia came towards her, murmuring : "I am 
 indeed grieved." 
 
 " You need really not give the matter further con- 
 sideration, your Highness. I shall not require the state 
 carriages again." 
 
 Amalia scanned the Queen's face in quick curiosity. 
 " Perchance your Majesty will soon be leaving the 
 Hague ? " she said. 
 
 " At present I am the guest of the States-General," 
 the Queen answered meaningly, " and I do not know how 
 much longer I shall enjoy their hospitality. But, in any 
 case, I shall not require the Stadthouder's coaches again. 
 I pray you greet my cousin of Orange, and tell him I 
 understand the situation perfectly." 
 
 The shaft went home. Amalia knew that the Queen 
 meant she was aware that the unfriendly action had not 
 been prompted by the Stadthouder ; that it was Amalia's 
 idea, and that Frederik Hendrik had given it his sanc- 
 tion against his own good-natured inclination, guided by 
 the demure determination of his outwardly submissive 
 wife. 
 
 " He will rejoice that your Majesty shows so ready an 
 acquiescence," she began, but found herself silenced by
 
 "IF LOVE BE DEAD" 339 
 
 the haughty bow of dismissal wherewith the Queen 
 terminated the audience. 
 
 There was bitter anger in the " Bohemian Court " at 
 the Princess Amalia's action. My Lady Phyllis and the 
 other ladies vowed they would not salute the Princess of 
 Orange when next they met her, and King Friedrich 
 would have laid the matter of the carriages before the 
 States-General, while Lord Strange and Magnus of 
 Wirteinberg were eager to wait upon the Stadthouder to 
 remonstrate with him. 
 
 " I pray you leave it be," said Elizabeth Stuart ; " the 
 best pride is silence. We will buy carosses somehow ; 
 besides, I can go on foot." 
 
 " A Queen a Princess Palatine cannot walk amon^ 
 the rabble ! " cried Friedrich despairingly. Elizabeth 
 Stuart smiled. 
 
 " Dear my lord," she said, " I would have you re- 
 member that there is naught I cannot do. Elizabeth 
 Stuart is Elizabeth Stuart whether she walks in the mud 
 or rides in a gilded coach. Such things can never make 
 me less, nor more ! " 
 
 The King bowed his head ; before her indomitable 
 pride of race and being he always felt at once humbled 
 and uplifted. In a way he felt her pride to be a protec- 
 tion to him. 
 
 A few carosses were purchased and paid for somehow, 
 though each day the state of the King's finances grew 
 more deplorable and the creditors' importunities more irk- 
 some. Yet hope was high hi the Queen's heart, for 
 Mansfeld, the Halberstadter, and the King of Denmark 
 were actually in arms in Germany, and it could not be 
 long before their victory would break the power of Austria 
 and Spain. At present, however, though the belligerents 
 confronted each other, and the whole of Germany was 
 armed to the teeth, and there had been a hundred skir- 
 mishes, no battle had taken place. Yet it was thought 
 that all was going well. 
 
 The marriage of King Charles of England with Henriette 
 Marie being now accomplished, France was bound to keep
 
 340 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 faith with the enemies of Austria ; and the German Pro- 
 testant Princes, though they gave it grudgingly, had been 
 unable to refuse their support to an army enrolled in the 
 name of Protestantism by the great anti-Catholic powers. 
 Only two Protestant potentates had refused their support : 
 John George of Saxony who sided with the Emperor, and 
 the Elector of Brandenburg, Friedrich's brother-in-law, 
 hung back as usual, alleging a dozen reasons for remain- 
 ing neutral. Among the numerous pretexts which he put 
 forward, the only one which had a semblance of kindly 
 consideration for his unfortunate kinsman, was the plea 
 that, as Friedrich's mother, Louise Juliane, and his two 
 children, Elizabeth and Karlutz, were still harboured in 
 Berlin, it was better to remain neutral and thus to insure 
 the safety of their refuge. 
 
 The Protestant army was confronted in Germany by a 
 new antagonist, the Count of Wallenstein, a Bohemian 
 Catholic, who had been called upon by the Emperor 
 Ferdinand to enlist a separate army to assist Spinola, 
 Cordova, Tilly, and the Bavarian Anholt, in exterminat- 
 ing the " pestilent heretical rebels." The Emperor issued 
 a proclamation commanding that the utmost rigour should 
 be shown to Mansfeld and the Halberstadter ; it was law- 
 ful to do them injury, it was unlawful to give them food 
 or shelter. The Protestant Princes, alarmed at this stern 
 decree, wavered momentarily in their loyalty to the Re- 
 formed Cause, but only two actually submitted to the 
 Emperor ; these were the Dukes George and Christian of 
 Celle, Guelphs and distant kinsmen of the Halbersta'dter. 
 There was a family intrigue underlying their policy. 
 Friedrich Ulrich of Brunswick- Wolfenbiittel being child- 
 less, his brother the Halberstadter was his heir, and the 
 Celles hoped by espousing the Emperor's cause to win 
 favour and eventually procure the outlawed Halberstad- 
 ter's exclusion from the succession and the sequestration 
 of his lands, which would then by hereditary right fall 
 to them. 
 
 For months the war dragged on ; there were skirmishes 
 and intrigues, proposed treaties between the Emperor and
 
 "IF LOVE BE DEAD" 341 
 
 his adversaries, quarrels between the Protestant com- 
 manders, but still no decisive action was fought. In 
 England the Parliament refused to grant supplies for the 
 war unless Buckingham was dismissed from office ; and 
 King Charles, though he loved his sister and honestly 
 desired to furnish the army with funds, loved Buckingham 
 and his own prerogatives better, now angrily dissolved the 
 Parliament. The supplies were thus not voted, and no- 
 thing could be sent to Germany for the maintenance of the 
 army. The King of Denmark believed this omission to 
 proceed from bad faith on Charles's part, and a general feel- 
 ing of hopelessness spread among the allied Protestants. 
 
 Added to this the Halberstadter, weary and disheartened 
 at length, was forced to abandon the army for a time, as 
 his presence at Wolfenblittel was indispensable if he would 
 save his inheritance. Urgently his mother wrote that 
 there was a plot in Vienna to depose Friedrich Ulrich, 
 to sequestrate his lands, and to hand them over to the 
 intriguing kinsmen. 
 
 With rapture Elizabeth of Brunswick welcomed the 
 Halberstadter back to Wolfenbiittel. He had ever been 
 wild and fierce, and had brought her anxiety and sorrow, 
 but she had always loved him a thousand times more 
 than the tame, poor-spirited Friedrich Ulrich. He came 
 to her now, broken in health, maimed in body, an outlaw 
 with a price set upon his head, a man with sorrow writ 
 large upon his face, when inattention lifted the mask of 
 pride and courage which he wore. With a touching pre- 
 tence of hopefulness she wrote to Sophie of Nassau that 
 she doubted not a few weeks' rest and care would restore 
 Christian to health ; it was only the fever which wore him 
 thus, the low fever which had never left him since the 
 battle of Fleurus. 
 
 Sophie of Nassau hurried to the Queen with these ill 
 tidings. Elizabeth Stuart was already discouraged by the 
 tardy progress of the war in Germany, and by her own 
 ever-increasing pecuniary anxieties, but she would not let 
 herself believe that this sadness could be added to her 
 misfortune. All things only not this not this. He
 
 342 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 would recover, he was so strong and brave, he could not 
 die, save on the battlefield. 
 
 Friedrich was absent from the Hague ; the building of 
 a hunting castle near Rhenen occupied his Majesty greatly 
 at this time. The munificent States-General had granted 
 him a piece of land and some funds wherewith to build a 
 house. Thus Elizabeth Stuart was at least spared the 
 added torture of concealing her anxiety, and her sorrowful 
 presentiments. 
 
 "All things save this," she had said. How many a 
 woman has prayed this same piteous prayer to God, before 
 the blow falls which makes life bitter for ever ! 
 
 The Spring had come; the lime-trees on the Lange 
 Voorhout were radiant with their coronal of young leaves. 
 Already in the garden before the Queen's house the tulips 
 were overblown and many petals lay upon the earth. It 
 was May, and the birds warbled of the coming of summer. 
 Elizabeth Stuart sat writing to King Charles of England. 
 Her long delicate fingers drove the quill swiftly across the 
 pages ; she seldom paused to seek a word, for her thoughts 
 ever travelled faster than that flying pen. Lady Har- 
 rington had been wont to say : " Her Highness sweeps over 
 the paper as though her pen were a besom," and truth 
 to tell, the Queen's caligraphy, with its broad dashes and 
 sweeping strokes, ever bore traces of her impetuous haste. 
 
 She finished her letter to King Charles, signed that 
 cramped monogram which signified E. B.. Elizabeth Bohe- 
 mia, and with deft fingers she began the folding of her 
 missive. She struck a spark from a steel tinder-box, 
 lighted a little taper, bound her letter round with a strand 
 of yellow silken thread, and affixed the seal Her thoughts 
 had wandered to Wolfenbiittel again, and her usually 
 dexterous fingers, unguided by her mind, proved dis- 
 obedient servants of so careless a ruler they spoiled 
 the seal 
 
 At this moment a hurried footfall came in the corridor, 
 and Sophie of Nassau entered the parlour unannounced. 
 The Queen was busy with the resealing of her letter.
 
 "IF LOVE BE DEAD" 343 
 
 " Is that you, Phyllis ? " she said absently, without 
 raising her eyes from her occupation. 
 
 " Ma cousine, it is I," said a tremulous voice behind her. 
 
 " Sophie ! " cried the Queen, springing up, " what 
 tidings " but the words died on her lips as she saw 
 Sophie's face, and the letter fluttered unheeded from her 
 fingers. There was no need for Sophie of Nassau to speak, 
 Elizabeth Stuart had read her tidings in her face. She 
 stretched out both hands to Sophie. 
 
 " When ? " the Queen asked in a low voice. 
 
 " Six days since," she answered, and, burying her face in 
 her hands, she wept quietly. 
 
 The Queen stood silent and immovable, only her fingers 
 clutched convulsively at her throat. For an instant all 
 thought was banished by an awful choking, as though a 
 cord drawn around her throat throttled her. Through 
 the open casement there came the sweetness of the soft 
 Spring air, and the sound of Prince Hal's blithe young 
 voice in the garden as he played with his dog. Then the 
 boy called gaily through the window : 
 
 " Mother, mother ! Come and see how my dog can 
 jump. Brady dog ! jump ! " 
 
 Sophie of Nassau was sobbing. 
 
 " Go, Hal ; I cannot come now," the Queen said gently. 
 
 " Oh, do come and see Brady, mother," the boy called. 
 
 "No, not now I have another thing to do," she 
 answered. What had she to do after all ? This was her 
 life, this commonplace living with its manifold difficulties 
 and cares her children and their pastimes. . . . 
 
 She pressed both hands against her eyes. There was 
 some mistake it was an evil dream she would wake 
 soon. Some day Christian would come back to her and 
 all would be well. She touched the little jewel he had 
 given her ; it was always hidden on her breast. 
 
 " Sophie, what have you heard ? There is some mis- 
 take," she said almost stupidly. 
 
 For answer Sophie of Nassau held a letter out to her. 
 She took it, unfolded the sheet, and read. The whole 
 miserable story was written there, how he had come back
 
 344 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 to Wolfenbiittel, how each day he had grown weaker, how 
 the physicians had not been able to explain his malady, 
 how he had suffered from a burning thirst. That his 
 mind had wandered, and that in his delirium he had been 
 constantly commanding an army, but that at the last 
 the Queen's vision grew dim, and the strangled feeling 
 came again, but she forced herself to read on at the 
 last his mind had been clear. He had caused himself to 
 be dressed in his buff jerkin and cuirass, with the sky- 
 blue baldric across his breast, and had bidden them 
 support him to the window, where he had stood, swaying 
 weakly, but looking out out as though he saw some- 
 thing which no one else could see. How he had spoken 
 no word, but silently had gazed out at the Spring, and 
 then how suddenly his knees had bent beneath him and 
 he had fallen forward, but his mother had caught him 
 and had pillowed his head upon her heart. Then he had 
 spoken one word one only and it had comforted the 
 mother exceedingly, for with his last breath he had 
 called her " Beloved." 
 
 With a great cry that sounded almost as a cry of 
 triumph, Elizabeth Stuart let the letter fall to the ground 
 Over and over again she repeated Christian's death- 
 word: "Beloved! Beloved!" 
 
 Sophie of Nassau rose and came to her. The barrier 
 of reticence was broken down between them. 
 
 " Elizabeth," Sophie said gently, " let my mother in 
 her sorrow believe that he indeed spoke to her let her 
 have this one solace." 
 
 " Did you think that I would ever tell her ? Sophie, it 
 is enough for me to know. Ah, God ! " the Queen broke 
 out, " ah, God ! if I could but have given him more." 
 
 " You have no remorse, at least. You never smirched 
 your love," said Sophie, wishful to soothe her. 
 
 " I would I had remorse, 'twere better than regret ! " 
 the Queen cried passionately. 
 
 Sophie of Nassau drew back a little. She was gentle 
 and pure and weak, and she feared the Queen, as she 
 had often feared the Halberstadter. She had always
 
 "IF LOVE BE DEAD" 345 
 
 deemed them to be curiously akin, beings isolated by 
 their own force and vehemence, resembling each other, 
 though one had been so silent and the other was ever so 
 spontaneously expressive in words ; yet it was as though 
 each had been the completion of the other's being. Dimly 
 she had always known them to be of the same race the 
 same world, and thus it had seemed to her inevitable that 
 they should love. Nevertheless the Queen's impetuous 
 frankness appalled her even now. 
 
 " Remorse is the avenger of sin," she whispered, with 
 that meek acceptance of axioms which is the refuge of 
 such natures as hers. 
 
 " Sin ? Remorse ? They are all names," the Queen 
 answered wildly. " Sophie, leave me now To-morrow 
 I will seek to console you in your sisterly grief but 
 now " 
 
 " God help you," said Sophie of Nassau, and, with a 
 generosity rare enough in grief, she added : " Your sorrow 
 is a thousand times more than mine, but for your com- 
 fort I bid you remember his last word." 
 
 She left the Queen, and after a moment Elizabeth 
 Stuart followed her out of the parlour and betook herself 
 to her own chamber. And there, where for the first and 
 last time she had known the rapture of Christian's kiss, 
 her pent-up agony now broke forth and she wept. Yet, 
 with the strange working of a woman's soul, it was not 
 on Christian of Brunswick, her dead love, that she called ; 
 through her sobs came the broken words : 
 
 " Anne, sweet Anne Dudley, would you were here to 
 hold me in your arms ! Anne, you would have under- 
 stood and helped me. I loved him loved him as I 
 never knew it was possible to love. Anne, I need your 
 friendship in this dark hour, I am so alone so friend- 
 less Thus Elizabeth Stuart wept, conquered by the 
 eternal loneliness of grief.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 TIDIN.GS OF DESPAIR 
 
 " C'est trop pleure, 
 C'est trop suivy tristesse." 
 
 JEAN DE LA TAILLE. 
 
 ELIZABETH STUART'S life went on outwardly un- 
 changed. The same struggles with penury, the 
 same ever-defeated intrigues for the restitution of 
 the Palatinate, the same round of duties and pleasures. 
 No matter that the mainspring of her life was broken, 
 she must go on Queen, wife, and mother there could 
 be no breaking down for her. Uncomplainingly, proudly, 
 nobly, she went through the years ; bore children for 
 Friedrich, took part in his hopes and fears, consoled him 
 for life's cruelty. Even death could not change duty, 
 even despair could not banish courage. The painters 
 only chronicled that she had passed her calvary, but on 
 their canvasses they recorded, too, something of the 
 grandeur of her bravery, which was cheerfulness in spite 
 of sorrow. The face which Mierevelt loved to paint was 
 no longer the same, though laughter that shield behind 
 which grief so often hides concealed her sorrow from 
 those around her. How strange it is that those who are 
 bound closest by the bond of daily life, really see little of 
 a man or woman's true aspect, miss the tragedy, overlook 
 the rapture, are blind to the grandeur which is yet 
 written on the well-known faces. The vision's focus is 
 wrong, perhaps, and those who stand afar see more 
 clearly. Yet if there is pain and loneliness herein there 
 is a merciful ordering also, for the human soul shrinks 
 before too sharp a scrutiny. But with the inconsistency 
 which is eternally human, how we cry out for comprehen- 
 
 346
 
 ' '. J 
 
 ^v^ioi 
 
 ' --J 
 
 ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 From a fuiintin by Honthorst in the National Portrait Gallery
 
 TIDINGS OF DESPAIR 347 
 
 sion, how we thirst for nearness ! Impatient of that 
 loneliness, which perhaps was given by God as a protec- 
 tion, we for ever seek understanding, forgetting that only 
 once in a lifetime can it be other than a corroding chain, 
 forgetting that it is only bearable when it comes as a 
 flash of intuitive sympathy, that the soul cannot bear 
 scrutiny, God having made each soul to be alone. 
 
 Nowadays, on Elizabeth Stuart's face there were written 
 three things: the cheerfulness of courage, the patience 
 which life teaches to the impatient, the sadness of an 
 undying memory. She was never the same after the 
 Halberstadter's death, and she deemed she had drained the 
 chalice of sorrow. She knew not that in the dregs there 
 remained the poison-drops of sordid anxiety, of the bitter- 
 ness of humiliation, of the shame caused by those she loved. 
 
 The monotonous life at the Hague went on. The 
 campaign in Germany had languished for lack of funds. 
 After the battle of Lutter, the only actual combat of that 
 whole campaign, and where the King of Denmark was 
 sorely beaten by Tilly, a truce had been concluded 
 between the Protestant leaders and the Emperor. Magnus 
 of Wirtemburg, poor " merry Andrew," had fallen at 
 Lutter, and a few months after Ernest Mansfeld had died 
 of a strange lingering malady, so similar to that which 
 had killed the Halberstadter, that the talk was renewed 
 of how both the Protestant champions had died of poison. 
 
 With this fading of their hopes the exiles' daily life in 
 the Hague became increasingly difficult. The creditors 
 clamoured for payment, and the remittances from England 
 grew less frequent. The sordidness of debt and anxiety 
 pressed on Elizabeth Stuart. The house at Rhenen had 
 risen stately and commodious, but the funds voted by the 
 States- General were sunk beneath the weight of masonry. 
 Many of the Queen's jewels vanished from her casket. 
 The ruby buttons over which King J ames had made such 
 a pother with sweet Mistress Anne and Schomberg in the 
 old days at Heidelberg the ruby buttons disappeared. 
 Then went the pearl ring and chain which had once been 
 among the Danish crown jewels, and which Anne of
 
 348 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Denmark had bequeathed to her daughter " Goody Pals- 
 grave." In fact, her Majesty's trinkets were much 
 diminished in number. She said she heard it was the 
 newest mode " not to bedizen oneself with gauds," but the 
 reason of her Majesty's lack of adornment would have 
 been clear enough if the kists of certain Jewish usurers 
 in Amsterdam could have been examined. It seemed 
 that, after all, and in spite of King Friedrich's strictures, 
 a Princess Palatine could pawn her jewels. 
 
 The States-General had given the Queen's children a 
 mansion at Leyden, the house on the Lange Voorhout 
 affording restricted accommodation. Only Prince Hal 
 was constantly at his mother's side, for she loved her 
 first-born with a tenderness which she did not lavish on 
 her other children. She was wont to say that she could 
 do all her maternal duty, attend to the necessities both 
 of her children's minds and of their bodies, but that no 
 one could commandeer love, not even a child from a 
 mother. " Love comes as it listeth," she would say, sighing 
 as she spoke the words. Then she would add, with one 
 of her whimsical smiles : " No one can love a dozen 
 children equally, and methinks God means to deal in 
 dozens with us ! " 
 
 Her eldest daughter Elizabeth, and her second son 
 Karl Ludwig Karlutz, as the King had sub-named him 
 had now left Louise Juliane's care in Berlin, and 
 sojourned at Leyden with the other children. Such prim 
 little Calvinists were these two mites, as Elizabeth Stuart 
 declared. She was half-annoyed and half-diverted by 
 their demure ways. She loved to poke fun at Karlutz, 
 and to see the self-righteous little fellow's consciously 
 superior air. As for the Princess Elizabeth, she had a 
 veritable passion for study, and was the joy and pride of 
 her tutors. But the Queen recalled King James's sayings 
 condemning " over-learned lassies," and whispered to my 
 Lady Phyllis : " Monsieur Sully said my father was the 
 wisest fool in Christendom, but I vow his Majesty was 
 really wise in many things. Strange that I should own 
 it so late in the day ! Yet on the subject of over-learned
 
 TIDINGS OF DESPAIR 349 
 
 damsels I am heartily with him. My daughter Elizabeth 
 may learn a whole library, but she'll ever be a wearisome 
 woman." 
 
 One pleasure had come to Elizabeth Stuart during the 
 last years, and that was the marriage of Mademoiselle de 
 la Tremouille with Lord Strange. The Queen had been 
 " godmother to a happy love," as she put it, and when 
 letters out of England came, telling her that Charlotte de 
 la Tremouille and her husband were peaceful and content 
 at their fine country home, Lathom House, the haunting 
 feeling that she brought misfortune to her friends left the 
 Queen for awhile. 
 
 Prince Hal was her chief occupation nowadays. He 
 had grown into a tall lad, graceful and slender, with a 
 delicate wild-rose complexion like his mother's. His 
 brown eyes, too, were like hers, though they still retained 
 the wide, appealing gaze of a child, and that sparkle and 
 lustre which life so soon extinguishes. He was not 
 " over-learned," albeit he studied swiftly and with interest, 
 but he loved to ride, to hawk, to run, to laugh. He was 
 truly after Elizabeth's own heart, and she thought him 
 the very picture of her beloved brother, that other Prince 
 Hal whom she had loved so deeply. Rupert, too, promised 
 to be of " the same kidney as Hal and rne," as she 
 expressed it, but the others 
 
 " Ah, well ! they are little Calvinists so good so 
 fearsome good, that I could weep for sheer weariness ! " 
 she would say to my Lady Phyllis. The people of the 
 Hague, even her Majesty's creditors, smiled when they 
 saw the Queen and her son riding through the town to 
 the hunting beyond the Bosch. They were strikingly 
 alike, for her Majesty's green velvet hunting-coat and 
 her large brown felt hat gave her, for all the world, the 
 air of a young gallant ; and Hal, riding beside her, straight 
 and proud, wore the same cut of coloured jerkin and 
 his hat was similar. The story went that a stern old 
 Calvinist dame of Rotterdam had once journeyed to see 
 the Queen of Bohemia, believing that this idol of the 
 Puritans would be a severe and hideous object, which
 
 350 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 would probably have edified the ancient lady's orthodox 
 soul. But, alas ! she had waited on the Lange Voorhout 
 to see the Queen ride out, and after the cavalcade had 
 gone by, and she had been asked what she thought of 
 her Majesty, she had answered wonderingly that she still 
 waited to see the Queen, for as yet she had only viewed 
 a troop of gallants riding past. Then when they had 
 told her that the foremost " gallant " was Elizabeth of 
 Bohemia, she had refused to believe them; and poor, 
 honest old lady, she had waited many hours till the Queen 
 had returned from the chase, and when she had made 
 sure that " the Lord's handmaiden " was this graceful being 
 in the man's hat and coat, she had thrown up her arms, 
 calling God to witness that His ways were manifold and 
 wonderful, but that, in her poor understanding, God and 
 the Puritans had made a mistake this time. 
 
 The Queen entered into all Prince Hal's pastimes, for- 
 getting for a while the drudgery of poverty, the disap- 
 pointment of high hopes, the sorrow of her memory of 
 the Halberstadter. It was one of those friendships be- 
 tween mother and son which onlookers call foolish favour- 
 itism, but which is perhaps the purest love the sweetest 
 companionship that this world holds. He was her knight, 
 her consoler, her joy, and he loved her with an exalted 
 worship, pure as the knightly ideal itself. When he had 
 been but a little fellow, and they had laughingly asked 
 him whom he would wed, he had always answered 
 proudly : " I am going to marry mother." And now 
 that he was no longer a child, his answer was ever : " As I 
 cannot marry my mother, I shall stay single all my days." 
 
 Sometimes the Queen sighed, thinking how these were 
 the sweetest hours of Hal's life for her; he was so ab- 
 solutely hers now, and the years must rob her of this 
 entire possession. He would always give her a great 
 love, but he would belong to another woman some day, 
 and the mother would take the second place. It is 
 nature's inexorable law, she knew, and she gave a tender 
 thought to Louise Juliane and smiled, and a compas- 
 sionate thought to Elizabeth of Brunswick and sighed ;
 
 TIDINGS OF DESPAIR 351 
 
 then her heart drew itself together in a spasm of sudden 
 anxiety, almost fear. What must it be to see the son 
 of all your hopes lie dead ? 
 
 One January day the Hague was in a turmoil of excite- 
 ment, the streets were crowded with a stream of laughing 
 holiday-makers, the church-bells rang out, patriotic 
 Dutchwomen hung gay carpets out of their windows. 
 News had come that the fleet had returned from the 
 West Indies, and hard on the heels of the messenger 
 who had brought these tidings came another rider, who 
 told how fifteen mighty Spanish galleons rode at anchor 
 in the Zuydersee, prisoners of the Admiral Pete Heyn. 
 At last the dream of avarice was an accomplished fact : 
 Spain's silver fleet was captured. For years men had 
 spoken in hushed voices of the vast treasure which each 
 year was conveyed to Spain from out the Indies ships 
 laden with silver, with gold, with pearls, with priceless 
 cargoes of indigo, of sugar, of precious woods and rich 
 furs. For years stories of this treasure-fleet had stirred 
 the imagination of the Dutch nobles and merchants until 
 it had become a tale, an Eastern fable, a phantasy of 
 untold wealth. And Holland went mad with joy, ex- 
 pectation, excitement, when the news came that this 
 floating treasure-house really lay on the waters of the 
 Zuydersee. The Hague seemed peopled with half deliri- 
 ous men and women. Flags flew on hovel and stately 
 mansion ; bonfires were lighted at street corners ; there 
 was frantic, riotous rejoicing. The fierce factions of 
 Calvin and Arminius forgot their polemics for a while 
 the treasure of the world glittered in their thoughts, 
 and their dazzled souls turned from contemplating the 
 glory of God, that glory which, of course, in the esti- 
 mation of each sect, belonged only to themselves and 
 was the glow of hell-fires to their opponents in theology. 
 Pete Heyn the cabin-boy, who had risen to be an 
 admiral, was the hero of the hour. What mattered it 
 that he had performed a hundred far more heroic deeds ? 
 Heroism was glorious, but unremunerative, while this 
 easy capture of untold wealth gave him for the moment
 
 352 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 a popularity as ardent as had been that of William I., 
 the Deliverer of Holland. Everybody felt himself to 
 be an incipient Croesus that January day. Many songs 
 echoed through the streets. 
 
 "Piet Heyn., Piet Heyn, 
 Zijn Naam is klein." 
 
 The refrain of the popular song was yelled on the 
 Plaats and the Vijverberg, from the Spui to the Kneu- 
 terdijke. Street vendors shouted a jumble of numbers 
 written on the freshly printed sheets, giving the latest 
 estimates of the West India Company's dividends. The 
 shareholders would reap a harvest of fifty per cent. El- 
 dorado had come to Holland. " Huzza ! Huzza ! Piet 
 Heyn ! Lang zal hij leven ! " 
 
 The tumult echoed through Elizabeth Stuart's parlour 
 at the house on the Lange Voorhout, where my Lord of 
 Carlisle, newly arrived at the Hague, was seated beside 
 her telling her the news of Whitehall. He told how the 
 English Puritans made no secret of their satisfaction 
 that Henriette Marie's first child, a boy, had been " born, 
 baptized, and buried the same day ; " and how they still 
 prayed that God would see fit to bestow the English crown 
 upon " God's pure handmaiden," Elizabeth of Bohemia. 
 The Queen had always indignantly silenced these too 
 zealous well-wishers of hers. She knew that King 
 Charles was a faithful son of England's Church, and that 
 his leaning to Popery was a Puritan invention. 
 
 " Ah ! my Lord of Carlisle," she said, " I grow so weary 
 of religious factions ! These godly Puritans have made 
 me out a theological marvel, and thus I am often plagued 
 here in Holland with sour-visaged pastors, who discuss 
 with me the tenets of Master Calvin and the opinions of 
 Arminius." She laughed. " I pray to God, and try to 
 do my duty ; and I care so little what Master Uyttenbo- 
 gaert believes about the Holy Trinity, or Master Smout of 
 Amsterdam preaches concerning Predestination ! " 
 
 Lord Carlisle leaned back in his chair, and gazed at the 
 Queen adoringly. He was an ill-favoured man, of sallow
 
 TIDINGS OF DESPAIR 353 
 
 skin, whose features Elizabeth Stuart had adequately de- 
 scribed when she had named him " Pig's-face." He was 
 famed as being an honest, if incapable, diplomatist, and 
 the most lavishly dressed courtier of his age. His osten- 
 tatious splendour was a trifle vulgar, but it was redeemed 
 by his kindliness and a certain indolent integrity. 
 
 " I know nothing of theology, your Majesty," he said 
 lazily, " save that its discussion is mighty tedious." 
 
 Their talk was interrupted by Prince Hal, who dashed 
 into the parlour with flushed cheeks and eyes dancing 
 with excitement. 
 
 " Mother, mother ! Give me leave to go with the King 
 to see the Silver Fleet on the Zuydersee. My father has 
 decided to start to-morrow with Christopher Dohna ! 
 All the town is going ! Madame ma mere, give me leave 
 to go ! " he cried. 
 
 She drew him to her gently. " You would see the 
 Spanish galleons, son of mine ? " she said, " and why not, 
 since their advent will help me pay the butcher's wife, 
 who had an all unqueenly audience of me again yes- 
 tere'en ! " She smiled up at the tall lad. " I warrant, 
 Hal, you care little that the capture of the Silver Fleet 
 means that the West India Company will pay your mother 
 fifty per cent." 
 
 " I want to see Piet Heyn and the shining cargo, 
 mother," the boy cried, brimmed up with enthusiasm. 
 At this moment the King entered the room. After the 
 usual raising of difficulties, which is the accustomed atti- 
 tude of the Teutonic father towards any pleasurable 
 excursion proposed by his offspring, King Friedrich con- 
 sented to Prince Hal accompanying him to the Zuydersee 
 on the morrow. 
 
 " You had best read a treatise on shipping to-day, Hal," 
 he said ; " thus you will combine pleasure with profit. It 
 was thus that I learnt much in my boyhood at Sedan." 
 
 Immediately Hal, who loved all appertaining to the 
 sea, began eagerly to recount the rigging and displace- 
 ment of Piet Heyn's ships. King Friedrich, who knew 
 as much of seamanship as he did of the mountains of the 
 
 z
 
 354 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 moon, listened, half-proud of his son's intelligence, half- 
 embarrassed by the knowledge that Elizabeth Stuart, 
 amused if irritated, was observing " father schoolmaster 
 hiding his ignorance from the young by pomposity," as 
 she was wont to say. 
 
 Friedrich, Prince Hal, Dohna, and a few gallants 
 started betimes the next morning. They were to journey 
 by road to Amsterdam, where a small schooner awaited 
 them, placed at their disposal by the States-General. 
 
 The Queen bade Prince Hal farewell merrily, telling 
 him, with a smile, not to be a foolish babe, when he vowed 
 that his interest had near vanished since she would not 
 go with him. 
 
 " Do not sail away with Piet Heyn to capture another 
 treasure fleet ! " she said, laughing, and then whispered to 
 him : " I weary when my Hal is not with me." 
 
 She settled down to a couple of days' uninterrupted 
 enjoyment of her old friend Carlisle's conversation, for 
 the weather had broken, and the unsmiling skies did not 
 tempt her to her usual sledging. It was very homelike 
 and restful in the house on the Lange Voorhout, although 
 the velvet hangings were growing threadbare and the 
 golden fringes on the chairs were tarnished and ragged 
 hi places. Already the exiles' poverty was evident in 
 the stately rooms. But, after all, a few years must see 
 their Majesties' return to Heidelberg. Monseigneur de 
 Richelieu seemed to be more than ever inclined to a 
 favourable policy for England ; he was doubtless displeased 
 by the increasing prosperity of Austria. Any war against 
 the Empire would mean the renewal of the efforts to 
 regain the Palatinate for its rightful owners. 
 
 Carlisle and the Queen discussed all this, sitting warmly 
 beside the open fireplace in the parlour, while the wind 
 shook the casements with angry gusts, and sent the rain- 
 drops pattering against the window-panes. The Queen 
 shivered a little. 
 
 " I love the still, winter days of snow and frost," she 
 said ; " these gales from the sea, sweeping over the Hague 
 are unfriendly visitors. I have ever dreaded a sea-storm.
 
 TIDINGS OF DESPAIR 355 
 
 Perchance I have inherited my mother's terror from when 
 she crossed in a furious tempest from Denmark to Scot- 
 land to wed my father." 
 
 Carlisle laughed. " An ill thing, your Majesty, if we 
 must be heirs to our parents' fears ! But the House of 
 Stuart hath ever had strange knowledge of the past and 
 of the future," he said lightly. A fierce gust of wind 
 shook the casement, and like a horde of tiny furies the 
 raindrops attacked the window-panes. 
 
 " Nay, foreknowledge is a vain imagination," the Queen 
 said. Then suddenly she cried out, " Ah ! I would the King 
 were returned ; he has been ailing lately, and this storm 
 will beat against his ship on the Zuydersee." 
 
 " He should be far from thence by now, madame. 
 Surely he will return here to-night ? " Carlisle said. 
 
 A silence fell between them. The Queen leaned her 
 cheek against her hand, and gazed into the leaping flames 
 on the hearth. 
 
 " Yes, he will return to-night. I would he were already 
 here," she said slowly. 
 
 Like a thief King Friedrich stole into his own house. 
 The driving wind proved a good ally now, for its moaning 
 hid the sound of steps on the gravel path, and the creak 
 of the house-door. Dohna was with him and a couple 
 of serving-men. The house lay in darkness save for the 
 faint flicker of a rushlight in the vestibule, where a lackey 
 waited up, hi case his Majesty should return. It was long 
 past midnight, and the Queen had retired to rest, believ- 
 ing that the King and Prince Hal had taken shelter from 
 the storm, and were lying at Amsterdam. Dohna drew 
 the King into a small parlour near the house-door. 
 
 " Bring food and wine," he whispered to the serving- 
 man. " Go quietly, above all do not let any one arouse 
 the Queen." 
 
 Friedrich flung himself into a chair, and covered his 
 pale face with his shaking hands. " Oh God ! " he mut- 
 tered hoarsely, " must this befall me too ? How much 
 more ? God ! God ! " his voice rose to a wail.
 
 356 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Be silent, sire ; would you have the Queen learn this 
 awful thing without warning ? " said Dohna almost roughly. 
 
 " I can never tell her who can tell her ? Why am I 
 alive to bring her such tidings ? I could not save him 
 Dohna, will she ever know that I could not ? He was 
 sucked down with the sinking ship the waves ran so 
 high you saw it too ? Dohna, did you hear him cry 
 out : ' Mon pere, mon pere ! Sauvez moi ' ? Were you 
 in the wreck ? I forget." He raved on piteously, weakly, 
 his words so jerked out between his sobs and the chat- 
 tering of his teeth, that they fell indistinct and thick like 
 a drunkard's speech. 
 
 The serving-man brought wine, and Dohna held a 
 goblet to the King's lips and forced him to drink a few 
 drops, though his own hand trembled so that he knocked 
 the goblet's rim against the King's teeth. Dohna, too, 
 had been in the wreck, but, being carried away by the 
 fierce waves, he had not seen the swift tragedy of Prince 
 Hal's loss. He himself had only been rescued with diffi- 
 culty by one of Piet Heyn's boats, after he had clung 
 to a floating mast for some time. The catastrophe had 
 happened in an instant. The waves were running high 
 beneath the gale ; but, surrounded by the whole of the 
 West India Company's fleet and by the fifteen Spanish 
 galleons, there had seemed to be little or no danger for 
 the small schooner wherein the King and his companions 
 sailed, when a sudden blast of wind drove the frail little 
 ship against a Spanish galleon, and instantly the small 
 craft heeled over, filled rapidly from the rent in her side 
 which the impact with the larger ship had made, and 
 sank in the wild sea, as though pulled down relentlessly 
 by a mighty hand. Hopes and spars were thrown to the 
 drowning men from the neighbouring ships, and most of 
 the crew were rescued, save Prince Hal and the two 
 sailors who stood near him in the stern. It was impos- 
 sible to reach the boy, who disappeared in the waves 
 with the one despairing cry of " Mon pere, mon pere, 
 sauvez moi ! " to the King, who was clinging helplessly 
 to a broken spar. Prince Hal could swim like a fisher-
 
 TIDINGS OF DESPAIR 357 
 
 boy, but, in that sea and fully dressed, swimming was 
 nigh impossible and he was drawn down by the suction 
 of the sinking ship. 
 
 During that terrible night Dohna had to listen to the 
 King's endless recapitulation of the miserable story, and 
 to his feeble, bitter self-reproaches. At dawn Christopher 
 Dohna left him with a serving-man and hurried to the 
 Golden Head, the inn where my Lord of Carlisle lay. Some 
 one must tell the Queen the King could not dared 
 not. Somehow the fickle, over-dressed, over-perfumed, 
 ostentatious courtier Hay, Viscount Doncaster, Earl of 
 Carlisle, seemed to be the only person who could under- 
 take this awful task. The Countess of Nassau was away 
 from the Hague. Could her Highness Amalia of Orange 
 tell the Queen ? In the midst of his sadness, Dohna 
 smiled as he hurried down the Hoogstraat to the hostelry. 
 Her Highness of Orange had never forgiven the Queen 
 for a remark her Majesty had been overheard to make 
 to my Lady Phyllis Devereux as they left the Binnenhof 
 after visiting the Princess of Orange, who, proud mother 
 of her first child, had lain a-bed. 
 
 " Poor Amalia ! " the Queen was reported to have said ; 
 " she is very well in health, but oh ! how ugly in that 
 hideous, plain bed-gown ! Why must virtue so often 
 drape itself in thick linen, alack ! " There had been a 
 coolness between the ladies since that day, which was not 
 lessened by the fact that his Highness the Stadthouder 
 remained the Queen's admiring partisan, and, whenever 
 he had paid a fleeting visit to the Hague during the pro- 
 tracted siege of Hertogenbusch, he had always repaired 
 to the house on the Lange Voorhout to offer his faithful 
 homage to his cousin's wife. 
 
 " My dear husband is so kindly to the poor Queen," 
 Dohna had once heard her Highness remark, and her 
 accent of sour pity had seemed an insult to its object. 
 No, the Princess of Orange was scarcely the person to 
 break the terrible news to her Majesty. 
 
 They told her in the morning that the King had not
 
 358 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 yet returned, and she rose and dressed as usual, gave 
 her commands for the day, ordered the servants to pre- 
 pare for the dinner the dishes which the King and Prince 
 Hal preferred. They would surely be home that day, 
 and would be weary and hungry after their long jaunt. 
 She noted that her tiring-woman's eyes were reddened 
 with weeping. 
 
 " What is amiss, my poor girl ? " she said kindly ; but 
 the woman had the wit to tell her that she had quarreled 
 with one of the serving-women, and the Queen inquired 
 no further. 
 
 They came and announced that my Lord of Carlisle 
 was below and craved audience of her Majesty, and 
 without anxiety she went to greet her old friend. 
 
 She came gaily into the parlour, which on that clear 
 morning was flooded with sunshine. She said lightly to 
 him that she was still a deserted wife and mother ; 
 laughingly averred that the King must be robbing the 
 Silver Fleet, as he stayed away so long. Then, seeing 
 Carlisle's white face, she cried out that he was surely ill, 
 and, when he shook his head, she stopped short, like one 
 who suddenly sees the brink of an abyss. 
 
 " Carlisle ! what have you come to tell me ? " she 
 asked. And then somehow he had told her, told her, 
 he said afterwards, " like a fool or a brute." 
 
 " Madame, there has been an accident on the Zuyder- 
 see. Your son is drowned " He thought she had not 
 heard him, for the smile on her lips remained unchanged ; 
 she was like one turned to stone with that gay smile 
 untouched, save that it seemed to be fixed for ever. 
 
 He told her all he knew of the wreck, of the surging 
 waves, of how the King had been barely rescued. She 
 uttered no word, but gazed at him as though he had 
 spoken in an unknown tongue. And then, very quietly, 
 she sank down at his feet like a broken flower. 
 
 For days she lay insensible. Perchance some angel 
 who had been a woman once, had laid a merciful hand 
 upon her, stilling her consciousness some angel who 
 knew that there are agonies too great to bear.
 
 TIDINGS OF DESPAIR 359 
 
 The King kneeled at her bedside, moaning and weep- 
 ing, praying her not to desert him too ; but she lay with 
 her still, white face upturned to the embroidered balda- 
 quin of the four-poster bed, her long brown lashes sweeping 
 her cheek, her lips calm as the lips of the dead. 
 
 As one who wakens from sleep, she came back to life 
 at last. She knew them all, but she was very weak 
 physically. She never spoke, and they had the mercy 
 to let her be. Dohna took the King away to Rhenen. 
 The physicians said that she was so weak that a further 
 strain would leave her hopelessly insane. 
 
 She lay there quite still, tearless, silent. They thought 
 she had forgotten the awful message which my Lord of 
 Carlisle had brought her. 
 
 One morning, about six days after they had carried 
 her to her bedchamber, she was lying as usual motion- 
 less, seemingly detached in mind and soul from all the 
 world. Beside her bed was Carlisle, who had prayed to 
 be allowed to watch over her while her ladies break- 
 fasted. The door was standing a little ajar ; it creaked, 
 and a blunt, brown nose pushed it open, and Prince Hal's 
 spaniel crept in. Carlisle held his breath. The dog had 
 never left the boy, and since his death he had wandered 
 about the house, piteously seeking the little master he 
 would never find again. Perhaps Hal's dog would recall 
 the mother ah yes ! to agony, but to life. Carlisle's 
 right hand caught the delicate lace of his sleeve-ruffle 
 and twisted it to a string. The sweat-drops stood out 
 on his sallow face. He deemed that on what happened 
 now depended the sanity of Elizabeth Stuart. 
 
 The dog sniffed about the room seeking, ever seek- 
 ing, his dead master. Deliberately, wagging his tail, he 
 came up to the bed, and, standing on his hind legs, he laid 
 his soft fore paws on the embroidered coverlet. The 
 Queen opened her eyes, feeling the weight on the cover- 
 let and hearing the rasp of the paws against the satin. 
 Slowly her hand went out and rested on the dog's smooth, 
 silky head, and she spoke in a weak, thin voice as of one 
 who is returning from mortal sickness :
 
 360 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Brady ! poor one, what is it ? " The dog whined 
 piteously and clambered awkwardly up beside her, 
 nozzling his blunt nose in her white, listless hand. 
 
 Carlisle bent forward. " He seeks him, madame ; he 
 seeks Prince Hal ! " 
 
 She turned her great, sombre eyes upon him with the 
 despairing glance of a hunted deer at bay, and then her 
 look travelled down to the dog. He gave a short, sharp 
 yap, and looked at her questioningly. 
 
 She sat up weakly and drew the animal to her. 
 " Brady dog Brady dog ! " she said, and the poor beast 
 whined again, hearing the familiar name, for his master 
 had always called him " Brady dog," and the Queen's 
 voice was so like Hal's. 
 
 Then, at last the Queen's strange apathy broke, and 
 the tears came. She fell back on her pillows, weeping 
 wildly. The dog, whimpering, crept close, and she put 
 her arm round his neck and held him to her. My Lord 
 of Carlisle rose noiselessly and slipped from the room, 
 closing the door carefully behind him. " My God, I 
 thank Thee," he said solemnly. 
 
 There was not only pain in Elizabeth Stuart's heart, 
 but an infinite yearning pity for the child thus wrenched 
 away from all he had been taught to trust. She agonised 
 at the thought of Hal whom she had sheltered, whose 
 weakness had ever clung to her strength, being flung out 
 to battle alone in the world of the dead. In vain she 
 told herself that God Almighty gathers the dead into His 
 safe keeping she was always tortured by the vision of 
 the boy striving towards her with outstretched, imploring 
 hands and questioning eyes. She saw him bewildered 
 lonely. She heard him call to her : " You who have 
 never failed me, you whom I trust, will you fail me now ? 
 Why am I abandoned ? " She pictured to herself those 
 beloved brown eyes gazing over the crest of a ruthless 
 wave ; she heard him cry out, " Mon pere, mon pere ! 
 Sauvez moi ! " 
 
 At times a passion of rage and scorn against King
 
 TIDINGS OF DESPAIR 361 
 
 Friedrich filled her. He had heard Hal calling on him 
 for help, and yet he had lived to say : " Our son is dead 
 I could not save him." 
 
 It was nothing, she told herself, that she missed the 
 boy, that each hour brought her as a physical suffering, a 
 stab of memory of happy days, the remembrance of 
 trivial things, of shared pleasantries, of the little common- 
 place sayings of companionship. Though this was pain 
 unutterable, she felt that because it was her own pain 
 she could bear it, nay, would master it, so that bitterness 
 should not mar the beauty of her memory of her first- 
 born. Her first-born ! God never gives so fair a gift as 
 a woman's first-born child and if He takes it back 
 may He have mercy on each mother who must suffer 
 this awful grief! 
 
 Yet Elizabeth told herself proudly that she could bear 
 all things there was no limit to courage but that 
 which tugged at her heart-strings because it was not her 
 own pain and she might not assuage it, was the pain 
 that she feared for Hal. She knew not if he suffered, 
 yearned, was afraid, or, pray God ! was at peace ? No 
 price would have been too great to pay for this know- 
 ledge, she thought. Surely, surely, the wealth of love 
 and sorrow which she gave must be counted as payment 
 for peace and some fair beatitude for him, wherever he 
 was ? 
 
 " God, God of the sorrowful," she prayed, " let me 
 suffer, but give him rest." And she listened for some 
 answer, sought for some certitude she, the reasonable 
 woman, who knew that there is no answer and no 
 certitude on earth. 
 
 The dull days of grief went on. She thought she had 
 lived a life's span since that far-off terrible day. But 
 there comes a time when the soul cannot, nay, will not 
 suffer more. It is as if the well of tears were dry, as if 
 agony had exhausted the power of sorrowing. 
 
 " II faut parler de chasse et non de larmes, 
 Parler d'oyseaux et de chevaux et d'armes, 
 C'est trop pleure."
 
 362 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Yet it is no merciful indifference which comes to the 
 stricken heart, but rather an impotence to suffer more, a 
 desperate clinging to the joy of life, an almost frenzied 
 turning to gaiety or its semblance, And, indeed, there 
 is healing therein, for Time is thus given respite to work 
 his will. Time and Sorrow are combatants, and Sorrow 
 thus temporarily paralysed, Time gains a slow victory. 
 
 So it was with Elizabeth Stuart, and though her eyes 
 were full of despair, her lips learned to smile again, the 
 lassitude of body left her, and she took part once more 
 in hunts and merrymakings. Some who saw her mocked. 
 " She is soon cured," they said. But those who spoke 
 thus were the men and women who, being incapable of 
 fierce suffering, did not know that unless merciful death 
 comes swiftly to the deeply stricken, there is an absolute 
 necessity for the strong natures to return to the fulness 
 of life. They cannot creep about, these strong ones, 
 cannot crawl through the days whining. As the strong 
 body must take nourishment to live, so must the strong 
 soul drink of the fountain of occupation and joy or go 
 under in madness.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE WINTER KING 
 
 " O weary life ! weary death ! 
 O spirit and heart made desolate ! " 
 
 TENNYSON 
 
 ONCE more the exiled monarch's hopes revived. The 
 increasing power of Austria had long displeased 
 France. The Hanseatic League, though tradi- 
 tionally loyal to the Empire, had bitterly resented the 
 Emperor's attempt to tamper with the freedom of their 
 trade in the North Sea and the Baltic. Upon their 
 refusal to allow their ships to be under an Imperial Nor- 
 thern Admiralty, Wallenstein, created Duke of Mecklen- 
 burg since his conquest of that dukedom in the name of 
 Austria, had beleaguered the Hanse town Stralsund, whose 
 citizens had called in the aid of Christian of Denmark 
 and of Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden. After a prolonged 
 siege the Imperial troops had been withdrawn, Denmark 
 had made peace with the Emperor, and the Northern 
 Admiralty scheme had been temporarily abandoned. 
 
 It had seemed as though peace approached at last, 
 when in March, 1629, the Emperor promulgated the 
 Edict of Restitution, and it was clear that the cessation 
 of hostilities was but a lull in the storm. Even Ferdi- 
 nand's own advisers urged him to withhold the Edict, 
 which all knew must cause the continuance of war ; but 
 Ferdinand now dropped the mask of toleration which he 
 had worn so long, and revealed himself as the fanatical 
 servant of Ultra-Romanism and as a greedy amasser of 
 wealth for the House of Hapsburg. The Edict decreed 
 the restitution of all Church property held by the Pro- 
 testants even in the Protestant countries of the Empire : 
 
 368
 
 364 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 archbishoprics, now the appanage of princes, bishoprics, 
 monasteries, broad acres of Church lands which had been 
 sequestrated at the Reformation. These, for the most part 
 Ferdinand bestowed, in anticipation, upon his eighteen- 
 year-old son Leopold William, despite the Church's decree 
 interdicting the accumulation of Church dignities and 
 wealth upon one individual, be he prince or priest. From 
 every side the Edict was greeted by a storm of rage. Even 
 the Pope, seeing that the Hapsburg intended to garner 
 the rich harvest, expressed his disapproval. This fresh 
 Imperial aggression decided Gustavus Adolphus to oppose 
 the Emperor by force of arms. The Austrian Baltic policy 
 had been a distinct menace to Sweden, and if Northern 
 Europe was to share the fate of Bohemia and be made 
 Catholic at the point of the sword, Gustavus Adolphus's 
 right to the Swedish crown was challenged. The Emperor 
 had ever refused him the title of King, which he gave to 
 Gustavus Adolphus's Catholic cousin, Sigismund of Poland, 
 from whom Sweden's crown had been wrested by the Pro- 
 testant Charles IX., father to Gustavus Adolphus. Poland 
 and Sweden had long been at war, and the Emperor had 
 repeatedly sent monies and troops to Sigismund. Gustavus 
 Adolphus now concluded a treaty of peace with Poland, 
 and prepared to take the field in the name of oppressed 
 Protestantism. 
 
 King Charles of England, engaged in negotiations with 
 Ferdinand, refused to take part in the coming campaign ; 
 and Richelieu, although he looked favourably upon any 
 enterprise calculated to harrass the Empire, considered 
 Gustavus Adolphus as a condottiere of the type of Mans- 
 feld or of Bethlem Gabor, another brilliant adventurer who 
 would flash through Germany and then gutter out like a 
 torch before the mighty breath of Austria's power. There- 
 fore, though Richelieu sent a large sum of money to 
 Gustavus, France officially held aloof. 
 
 Towards the beginning of July 1630, Gustavus Adolphus, 
 with thirteen thousand men, landed on the coast of Pome- 
 rania. At first the campaign went rather tamely, and 
 Gustavus only gained small victories, although the Im-
 
 THE WINTER KING 365 
 
 perial troops were half-hearted in consequence of their 
 leader Wallenstein's absence. He had been recalled by 
 Ferdinand to answer the charges brought against him 
 by the electors in conclave at Regensburg. Ferdinand, 
 desirous of procuring the nomination of his son as King 
 of Rome, was truckling to the electors upon whose vote 
 this nomination depended ; and although he, in obedience 
 to their wishes, dismissed Wallenstein, the electors refused 
 him their votes. Wallenstein retired to Prague, and Tilly, 
 now an old man of seventy-four, was placed in command 
 of the Imperial forces in his stead. 
 
 Meanwhile the citizens of Magdeburg, fearful lest by 
 the Edict of Restitution they should be forced to accept 
 the return of a Popish archbishop, had declared for Gus- 
 tavus, and had placed their city in a state of defence. 
 
 In the late autumn of 1630 Gustavus, having con- 
 quered Pomerania, at last marched southwards, but still 
 no decisive action was fought, although the Swedes suc- 
 ceeded in taking Frankfort on the Oder. In May 1631 
 Magdeburg fell before Tilly ; the inhabitants were cruelly 
 massacred, and the whole town burnt in spite of Tilly's 
 efforts to check his brutal soldiery. There followed the 
 battles of Werben and of Leipzig. The victorious Gus- 
 tavus then marched through Thiiringen and Franconia 
 to the Rhine, and invested Mainz and Frankfurt on the 
 Main, where he decided to remain in safe quarters for 
 the winter. 
 
 John George of Saxony, alienated from the Empire by 
 Ferdinand's refusal to cancel the Edict of Restitution, had 
 sent his army to serve under Gustavus; these troops the 
 Swedish king had despatched soon after the battle of 
 Leipzig to hold Prague in the name of Protestantism. 
 Gustavus now invited King Friedrich to repair to Frank- 
 furt to join in the great campaign against Romanism and 
 oppression. The Swedish monarch, who had once been a 
 suitor for the hand of Elizabeth Stuart, proclaimed him- 
 self to be her champion his sword should redress her 
 bitter wrongs, he would win back a kingdom for her, he 
 fought for her and the Protestant faith.
 
 366 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Charles of England still refused his aid, and her 
 Majesty wrote to him a little bitterly that, if he " did 
 nothing but treat," she and her family would remain for 
 ever a burthen upon him. Angrily King Charles cried 
 out that his sister misjudged him ; with an exchequer over 
 two millions in debt, how could he undertake to support 
 an army ? He granted permission, however, to James, 
 Marquis of Hamilton, to raise a troop of volunteers, and 
 he managed to screw a decent sum out of his exhausted 
 treasury, but even this was done under the seal of secrecy, 
 for England was in treaty with Austria. 
 
 Yet surely the dawn of a brighter day was breaking for 
 the exiles. 
 
 " We cannot always be unfortunate ! " the Queen cried. 
 " Every dog hath his day, dear my lord ; and sure, our 
 day is coming." 
 
 But Friedrich gazed gloomily through the rain-blurred 
 parlour-window. " We had our day at Heidelberg it 
 will never return to us," he said. 
 
 " Courage ! " she cried half-angrily ; " the States have 
 voted you a hundred and fifty thousand thalers ; they 
 have given you two thousand of their best cavalry as 
 escort ; our kind, dull cousin of Orange hath given twenty 
 thousand thalers in spite of Amalia, I'll be bound ! 
 Come, poor sad one ! all is going well. Courage ! " 
 
 He came to her, and, kneeling down beside her, he 
 rested his brow on her shoulder. "Dear heart," he 
 murmured, " my mind misgives me. Methinks misfor- 
 tune is a bad habit which we have fallen into. I have 
 hoped so often that I am afraid of hoping." 
 
 " Friedrich, this is weakness ! " she said gently. " You 
 are too strong to give in to hopelessness." 
 
 " I strong ? " he laughed bitterly. " I sometimes think 
 that my very life depends on your strength, and that, if 
 you were far from me and illness came, I should die just 
 because you were not near." 
 
 There was something infinitely pitiful in this avowal, 
 this relinquishing of all dignity of being by a man who 
 usually cloaked his weakness by a pompous assumption
 
 THE WINTER KING 367 
 
 of manly independence. What he spoke was true enough, 
 and both he and Elizabeth Stuart had long known it. 
 But there are some things which must never be put into 
 words, or that which was a tacit understanding becomes 
 an open degradation. 
 
 Elizabeth had lately given birth to another child. " Pray 
 God, it is not the commencement of a new dozen," she had 
 said, with one of her whimsical smiles, for though sorrow, 
 despair, and humiliation had swept over her, her sense of 
 humour never failed her. " You see, I am ever of my 
 wild humour to be merry," she had once written to Louise 
 Juliane, who had sighed when she had read the words, 
 thinking that Elizabeth Stuart was incurably frivolous, 
 though even her Calvinistic soul, half-surprised, had paid 
 tribute to this dauntless woman. 
 
 There was tremendous excitement in the Hague over 
 the preparations for the King's departure, and daily re- 
 cruits came in offering their services. A whole army 
 corps could have been enrolled, but Friedrich dared not 
 saddle himself with too large a force, as his funds were 
 inadequate to support more than a hundred horse. 
 
 For years a veritable troop of young English gentle- 
 men had come to the Hague, ostensibly to learn the 
 theory of warfare under Frederik Hendrik of Orange, who 
 had shown himself to be a worthy successor to his brother 
 Maurice, and there were even some who said that his 
 military prowess, though less showy, was more efficacious 
 than his predecessor's. Be this as it may, the Hague 
 was filled with young foreigners studying strategics, and 
 haunting the " Bohemian Court." Among them was Sir 
 William Craven, the son of a rich London merchant. He 
 had served with distinction under Frederik Hendrik at 
 the protracted siege of Hertogenbusch, and returning to 
 England with letters of warm recommendation from his 
 commander, King Charles had conferred a peerage upon 
 him. But a magnet drew Lord Craven back to the Hague. 
 He was still a youth, for he had been only sixteen when 
 in Holland, and Elizabeth Stuart had scarce noticed the 
 gentle, quiet boy with the steady grey eyes. But a patient
 
 368 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 devotion had grown in Craven's heart for the exiled Queen. 
 Very short and slight, he ever looked younger than he was, 
 and gradually she grew accustomed to his quiet presence. 
 King Friedrich liked him, and he was constantly invited 
 to the house on the Lange Voorhout. " Little Craven," 
 and " the little man," she called him, and she treated him 
 almost as a child. 
 
 When it was settled that the King was to join Gustavus 
 Adolphus, Craven prayed to be allowed to journey to the 
 camp as one of his Majesty's own gentlemen, and some- 
 how Elizabeth Stuart felt that she could let Friedrich 
 go forth with a quieter heart if the " little man " went 
 with him. 
 
 The Hague citzens gave the King an ovation. En- 
 thusiastic crowds lined the streets, flags flew, the church- 
 bells chimed merrily. In the Council Chamber of the 
 Binnenhof the States-General assembled to bid him God- 
 speed. The grave, black-clad burgesses bowed before him 
 as though he had been already a hero returned from 
 victory. It seemed as though the whole world was assured 
 that at length the unfortunate monarch's luck had turned. 
 And Friedrich, ever easily elated and as easily cast down, 
 caught fire from their warm confidence and promised a 
 speedy return. 
 
 " My reverend sirs ! " he cried, " I doubt not that 'twill 
 be but a few months ere I come to bear away her Majesty 
 and my children to my reconquered dominions, yet I 
 would pray a last favour from your unfailing bounty, 
 this : that you should guard the widow and the orphans 
 until my glad return." He spoke half-jocosely, and the 
 ill-omened words fell heedlessly from his lips, but some 
 among his hearers wondered that he should speak thus ; 
 yet, for the nonce, amid the general acclamation the 
 strange saying was forgotten in the interest aroused by 
 the speech made by Jacob Cats, the Pensionary of Dor- 
 drecht, who had been chosen by the States as spokesman 
 that day by reason of his known friendship with their 
 Bohemian Majesties. 
 
 The King marched out of the Hague with his hundred
 
 THE KING OF BOHEMIA. 
 
 After a picture by Miereveldt in the Collection of the Earl of Craven at Combe Abbey.
 
 THE WINTER KING 369 
 
 mounted gentlemen and the large escort provided by the 
 States-General. The cannon boomed royal salutes, the 
 populace shouted, and the joy-bells rang. Friedrich King 
 of Bohemia was setting forth to claim his own again, the 
 Protestant champion was going to join the new Protestant 
 hero. The time of tribulation was nigh ended. 
 
 Good news came to the Hague, the King had arrived 
 safely at his Majesty of Sweden's winter quarters in 
 Frankfurt, and had been received with regal honours. 
 Gustavus Adolphus had insisted on his taking precedence 
 over all, had styled him " Majesty," and had sharply re- 
 primanded a Saxon gentleman who had called him " your 
 Highness." Friedrich wrote that there were gay doings 
 at Frankfurt in honour of the Queen of Sweden's arrival. 
 He told how there had been a masquerade, and that 
 Gustavus Adolphus had donned the woollen hose and 
 white apron of the innkeeper's son; that her Majesty, 
 Queen Eleanor, had dressed as a Swedish peasant woman, 
 and that he, Friedrich, had disguised himself in a monk's 
 cowl and gown. There had been great hilarity, he said, 
 when it had been seen how monklike he looked, he, the 
 champion of Protestantism; and King Gustavus had 
 laughed and declared that Friedrich had betrayed him- 
 self, he was really a Jesuit in disguise and no Calvinist. 
 Elizabeth Stuart smiled and sighed when she read this, 
 smiled at the unwonted gaiety of the tone of Friedrich's 
 letter sighed because she realised that the debonair 
 youth she had married was now a sad-faced man, hollow- 
 cheeked, and with deep, sunken eyes, who would in a 
 monkish garb fulfil the Protestant's notion of a Jesuit : 
 a sombre, haggard, furtive being. But all this would 
 change when fortune smiled again, she thought, and 
 surely the hour of triumph was not far off now. At the 
 news of each victory the Queen's confidence grew. The 
 town of Kreuznach had fallen, and the "little man" 
 Craven had so distinguished himself by his dash and 
 courage at the assault, that the King of Sweden had laid 
 a kindly hand on his shoulder and had told him that he 
 
 2 A
 
 370 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 seemed determined to give some younger brother a chance 
 of inheriting his wealth. After the conqueror's entry into 
 the city, King Friedrich had been enthusiasticallyacclaimed 
 by Hamilton's Scottish troops. The day of triumph was 
 dawning. 
 
 A check came to the Queen's elation ; there had been 
 a fire at Heidelberg, and much of the castle had been 
 destroyed. It was said that the Spanish garrison had 
 set fire to it, fearing lest it should fall into the hands 
 of the avenging Protestant hosts. 
 
 " We will rebuild it next year, dear my lord be not 
 downcast," she wrote to Friedrich, for none doubted 
 Gustavus Adolphus's ultimate victory. He would brook 
 no half-hearted allegiance on the part of the Protestant 
 Princes, who were now, at last, united for the Cause. 
 Even his brother-in-law, the wavering, specious George 
 William of Brandenburg, had been forced to declare 
 against the Emperor. To effect this, indeed, it had been 
 necessary for Gustavus to inarch to Berlin, but, when the 
 dreaded Swedes had appeared before the walls, George 
 William had decided to throw in his lot with the Protes- 
 tant army. It was whispered now that the Swedish king 
 intended to proclaim himself Emperor of the Holy Roman 
 Empire ; it was known that Richelieu had offered to 
 procure his nomination as King of Rome. The dream 
 which lived in the Swedish hero's mind was doubtless to 
 found a Northern Empire comprising all the German 
 Protestant States and excluding only Austria and Bavaria, 
 which would remain under the sway of the ancient 
 Southern Empire. He had planned to unite the Houses 
 of Vasa and of Hohenzollern by marrying his six-year-old 
 daughter Christina to Friedrich Wilhelm of Brandenburg, 
 son of the Elector George William ; Pomerania was to fall 
 to them by treaty on the death of Duke Boguslav, and 
 Denmark should be annexed by a future war. All the 
 princes of Germany should swear fealty to Sweden, and 
 the free towns and lay bishoprics should also be under 
 the protection of this mighty new power. There should 
 be an Imperial Diet at Stockholm to which each prin-
 
 THE WINTER KING 371 
 
 cipality should send delegates. It was, in fact, the dream 
 of empire which, in part, has become reality under the 
 descendants of that very Friedrich Wilhelm of Branden- 
 burg, though it has come about without Sweden's par- 
 ticipation therein. Soaring plans, indeed, and surely 
 calculated to awaken the alarm of France. 
 
 The Emperor's cause seemed to be in an evil plight; 
 the Spanish troops were needed for the relief of Maastricht 
 in Holland, closely besieged by Frederik Hendrik of 
 Orange, and Gustavus Adolphus held nearly the whole 
 Rhine Province and threatened the Bavarian frontier. 
 In March 1632 he entered Niirnberg and was greeted 
 by the populace as the new Joshua. Then he swept on to 
 Donauworth. Here, too, he was welcomed with rapture. 
 Maximilian of Bavaria trembled for the safety of Munich, 
 but placed his confidence in his army under Tilly which 
 protected the Bavarian frontier beyond Donauworth. On 
 April 15th Gustavus shattered Tilly's army at Rain, on 
 the river Lech, and the venerable commander Tilly was so 
 sorely wounded that he died a few days later at Ingold- 
 stadt. The Swedish army now took the town of Augsburg, 
 and early in May the victors marched into Munich. 
 
 Friedrich of Bohemia had never left King Gustavus's 
 side during this wonderful campaign ; and although there 
 had been protracted discussions between the two monarchs 
 as to the future, and sometimes the Swede's evident 
 determination to exact a fair price for his assistance 
 had disappointed Friedrich, still a warm affection and 
 confidence had sprung up between them. Yet deep dis- 
 couragement peeped through the conscientiously hopeful 
 tone of Friedrich's letters to Elizabeth. From the 
 Niirnberg camp he had written that he would never 
 have believed Gustavus could have treated him "so 
 ungenerously," for the settlement of the Palatine affairs 
 seemed as far off as ever despite the Swede's many victories. 
 He longed for peace, for the ending of all this fruitless 
 endeavour. "Plut a Dieu!" he wrote, "qu" eussions un 
 petit coin au monde pour y vivre contents ensemble ! 
 C'est tout le bonheur que je me souhaite."
 
 372 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Nevertheless, as hie and Gustavus wandered together 
 through the Bavarian's magnificent palace, Friedrich felt 
 that the Swedish king had already in a measure avenged 
 his bitter wrongs. 
 
 There were many Bohemian cannon left at Munich, 
 which Maximilian had captured at the battle of the White 
 Mountain, but the Bavarian jewels were hidden safely 
 away, and with them that jewelled ribbon of the Garter 
 which Friedrich would so gladly have reclaimed. " My 
 good cousin Ferdinand hath taken away his best goods," 
 he wrote to Elizabeth ; " there are many handsome things 
 left, but mighty difficult to remove." And then, with a 
 touch of his usual querulousness, he added : " But even 
 were it not so I should have none of them." For Gustavus 
 Adolphus had forbidden the plundering of the conquered 
 cities, and a certain bitterness was growing up in Friedrich's 
 heart against the Swedish King. Friedrich could not learn 
 the simple rule of human life, this that no one does 
 anything without payment; and he raged weakly that 
 Gustavus gave help, gave vengeance, gave the hope of 
 restitution, but that he openly avowed that he would 
 exact payment herefore, that when the Palatinate fell 
 to Friedrich, Sweden would expect to hold a couple of 
 Palatine towns, certain promises of money and future 
 alliance, and freedom of worship for the Lutherans in the 
 Palatinate, as her legitimate share of the spoil. 
 
 In Munich the weary soldiery was permitted a few 
 days' repose, and even the impetuous Gustavus was not 
 loth to rest there awhile, although he was loud in his 
 condemnation of the climate and his disapproval of the 
 scenery round the town. He said that Munich was " a 
 golden saddle upon a sorry nag." It is possible that the 
 lustre of patriotism had dazzled his eyes when he had 
 gazed on Sweden, otherwise this saying, coming from the 
 lips of one who had enjoyed the Swedish climate, is in- 
 comprehensible. However, Gustavus's sojourn in Munich 
 was but short, for the Emperor, aghast at the Swede's 
 success, had summoned Wallenstein to his aid. Also the 
 Imperialists had gained some advantage in Swabia, and
 
 THE WINTER KING 373 
 
 Gustavus quickly evacuated Munich, and marched to the 
 aid of the Wirtemberg Protestants. 
 
 Wallenstein, meanwhile, had driven the Saxons out of 
 Prague, and had advanced to the neighbourhood of 
 Niirnberg. Gustavus, knowing his army to be too small 
 to risk an attack upon Wallenstein while Maximilian of 
 Bavaria with his troops threatened him from the west- 
 ward, withdrew into Nurnberg, and for two months the 
 opponents faced each other but remained inactive. At 
 length Gustavus was forced to make an effort to get his 
 troops away from the Nurnberg neighbourhood, which 
 by now was swept bare of provisions ; and on Septem- 
 ber 23rd he attacked Wallenstein, but was repulsed and 
 again fell back on Nurnberg. 
 
 He now decided to leave a garrison in the town, and to 
 run the gauntlet along the enemy's lines in order to gain 
 a freer field of action. Wallenstein allowed the whole 
 army to march away unmolested, although the Swedish 
 soldiers constantly fired into his camp. Shortly after- 
 wards Wallenstein marched to Leipzig, which he seized 
 and refortified as a punishment to John George of Saxony 
 for having joined Gustavus. Wallenstein was reinforced 
 by Pappenheim who, foiled in his attempt to relieve Maest- 
 richt, still besieged by Frederik Hendrik of Orange, had 
 successfully invested Hildesheim and was now free to join 
 the main army. 
 
 Friedrich of Bohemia had left Gustavus when the 
 Nurnberg camp was raised. Sick at heart and despon- 
 dent he had withdrawn to Mainz. It had seemed to him 
 that there was but little use in following the fortunes of 
 Gustavus farther. He had served faithfully during the 
 arduous campaign ; he was ailing and needed rest, so he 
 averred. In reality a sudden nostalgia had come to him, 
 a longing to be in or near the Palatinate. God knows, it 
 was a melancholy pilgrimage that he made ! The once 
 smiling country, rich in waving wheatfields and grandly 
 wooded slopes, the happy, prosperous villages, the stately 
 castles and goodly dwelling-places were now charred, 
 downtrodden waste lands and blackened ruins. The
 
 374 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 peasants had either fled or slunk about their ravaged 
 homesteads, miserable and terror-stricken. The King 
 wrote to Elizabeth that he had gone hunting with har- 
 riers, and that he had longed " avidement " for her to be 
 by his side. She read between the lines how heart-sore he 
 was, how the sight of the havoc wrought in his homeland 
 had given the death-wound to his already broken spirit. 
 Piteously he assumed a hopefulness she knew he did not 
 feel. " Yet all this would be easy to restore," he wrote ; 
 but Craven had written that it would take the lifetime of 
 two generations to re-establish the famed opulence of the 
 Palatinate, and she believed the unostentatious, practical 
 knowledge of the " little man " more than poor Friedrich's 
 feeble optimism. 
 
 They were weary days in the Hague. Sophie of 
 Nassau was in great grief for the loss of her husband, 
 Ernest Casimir of Nassau, who had fallen at the storm- 
 ing of Roermund. Amalia of Orange, too, was in a state 
 of depressed anxiety for her Frederik Hendrik, who was 
 still besieging Maastricht. Her Highness's depression was 
 duly communicated to her decorous Court, and it was the 
 mode for all to go about with faces of woe, and to speak 
 in that hushed tone which is supposed to befit o'erdarkened 
 days. The Queen, of course, would have none of this ; 
 she rode out, she busied herself with books and letters, 
 she spoke in her accustomed sonorous tones. Anxiety 
 was hard to bear, as she said, but wry faces and whining 
 voices had never charmed fortune back, or averted sorrow. 
 
 Towards the middle of November the news came of the 
 battle of Liitzen, the most disastrous victory that an army 
 has ever won : Gustavus Adolphus had fallen. It was 
 whispered that the Swedish hero had been treacherously 
 done to death by Duke Franz Albert of Lauenburg, always 
 suspected of double-dealing and envy of Gustavus. He 
 had ridden at the King's side in the mele'e, and the fact 
 that Gustavus was shot through the back induced many 
 to believe, though no proof has ever been adduced to 
 support, this dark story. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart had once more to face the shattering
 
 THE WINTER KING 375 
 
 of her hopes, for although there had been disagreements 
 concerning the terms of the Palatinate's restitution, she 
 knew that ultimately the valiant Swede Avould have given 
 Friedrich back his rightful heritage. Death had again 
 fought against her. 
 
 The joy-bells rang in the Hague, the cannon thundered 
 salutes, flags flew from every house, and the streets were 
 full of enthusiastic revellers. Maastricht had fallen some 
 time back, and Frederik Hendrik of Orange and his troops 
 were returning in triumph to the Hague. Amalia of 
 Orange welcomed her excellent, substantial hero, and there 
 were splendid rejoicings at the Binnenhof ; men shouted 
 his name in the streets, and the pealing bells proclaimed 
 the glorious return of yet another great warrior of the 
 House of Orange. 
 
 In the house on the Lange Voorhout Elizabeth Stuart 
 listened dully to this tintamarre of rejoicing. She neither 
 spoke nor wept, only from time to time she unfolded the 
 paper whereon were written the tidings of the death of 
 Friedrich, King of Bohemia. It was a short enough 
 missive, penned by Spina, the doctor who had tended 
 King Friedrich, and addressed to Mijnheer Rumf, physi- 
 cian to the Queen of Bohemia. In terse phrases it set 
 forth how the King had been ailing for some time, but 
 that he had insisted upon riding forth to visit his cousin, 
 the Duke of Zweibriicken. On his return to Mainz he 
 had fallen grievously sick, and the doctor, fearful lest he 
 had taken the plague which was raging in the neighbour- 
 hood, had examined him and found three plague spots on 
 his body. After a few days the violent symptoms had 
 abated, however, and Spina had believed his Majesty to 
 be on the road to recovery. Then had come the news 
 of the battle of Llitzen, and of the loss of Gustavus 
 Adolphus. " His Majesty, lying sick in bed, turned his 
 face to the wall, and moaned out that now his last hope 
 was taken from him," wrote Spina. A few hours after 
 delirium had set in, and on November 19th he had 
 breathed his last in the hostelry at Mainz. There was a
 
 376 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 rumour that he had been poisoned, but Spina averred 
 that he had died of plague and a sheer surrender of his 
 energy to live. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart tortured herself with the thought that 
 if she had been with the King he would not have died. 
 Had he not said that his very life depended on her 
 strength ? A piteous, unmirthful smile twisted her lips 
 for an instant she realised that, in the midst of her 
 grief, she was half wroth with Friedrich for having given 
 in to death so easily. The doctor had written that it had 
 been as though the King had surrendered his spirit out 
 of sheer sorrow for Gustavus Adolphus. Sorrow ! Eliza- 
 beth Stuart knew that it had been the sorrow of hopeless, 
 helpless discouragement. Poor Friedrich ! poor, feeble 
 being, tortured by his own weakness ! 
 
 Her mourning for Friedrich was chiefly an immensity 
 of pity, a longing to help the dependent soul of him who 
 had loved her, who had lusted for earthly power to his 
 undoing indeed but always for her to crown her queen, 
 to give her greater honours. She grieved more as a 
 mother grieves for a lost child than as a woman mourns 
 her mate. Her mate ? Christian the Halberstadter had 
 been her mate he alone ! And now she was free, Fried- 
 rich's weak soul no longer lay on her heart as an abiding 
 task a beloved task, but a task for all that but Chris- 
 tian was dead Christian and Friedrich and there was 
 no meaning left in life for her. 
 
 A touch of horror and of sordidness was added to 
 Elizabeth Stuart's grief, for, as in life so in death, Fried- 
 rich's strange destiny of unrest continued. At first the 
 Protestant army requested that the mortal remains of their 
 champion should not be entombed. When victory came 
 his coffin should be borne in triumph before the conquer- 
 ors ! In vain the Queen wrote that he should be laid to 
 rest at Heidelberg in the Heilig-Geist Church beside his 
 forbears. His brother Louis was administrator of the 
 Palatinate, a title surely given in derision, for who could 
 administer a country claimed by a rightful owner, and by 
 a new proprietor whose possession was sanctioned and
 
 THE WINTER KING 377 
 
 upheld by an Emperor, whose technical right of disposal 
 was supported by the presence of an armed host in the 
 disputed territory itself? 
 
 Count Louis planned to inter King Friedrich with be- 
 fitting pomp in Heidelberg; but he hesitated, partly because 
 he wished to content the Protestant army, partly because 
 of his inability to carry out his plan, for the country was 
 overrun with Spaniards and Bavarians. 
 
 With horror the Queen realised that some mischance 
 of warfare might place the helpless clay in the enemy's 
 power, and she shuddered at the thought of the insults 
 to the dead which would ensue. 
 
 At length she heard that they had carried the King to 
 Frankenthal, that he lay in peace in his own half-ruined 
 castle. But the same despatch told her that the misery- 
 maddened populace had greeted the shabby cortege with 
 howls of bitter mockery, that the coffin had been borne 
 into the castle amid a shower of stones and lilth thrown 
 by the people who had once poured benedictions on their 
 beloved Prince, whom, in death, they greeted with such 
 cruel contumely. It was written that the body could not 
 remain at Frankenthal for fear of some ghastly outrage ; 
 the peasantry, debased by misery, was furiously hostile 
 Frankenthal was insecure. 
 
 At last, at dead of night, secretly, in haste and fear, 
 they bore King Friedrich out of the half-ruined palace 
 where he had lain ; but the people had heard what was 
 to be done. A snarling crowd gathered before the portals, 
 and, amid yells and foul imprecations, the rough cart with 
 its helpless burthen was driven away into the night. Yet, 
 even now, the cruelty of Fate had not done with Friedrich 
 of Bohemia. The cart was but a couple of loosely nailed 
 boards, and the driver told afterwards how " the restless 
 prince could not lie still," for many times the ricketty 
 wheels had stuck in the ruts of the ill-tended roads, and 
 the coffin had been flung into the mud. 
 
 Some three years after his death the unhappy King 
 was laid to rest. The homeless wanderer could not even 
 find the refuge of a grave in that homeland he had learned
 
 378 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 to long for, that homeland which he had bartered for a 
 shadowy crown. At last he was entombed in Sedan ; but 
 men had lost all interest in Friedrich of Bohemia, and it 
 was not deemed of sufficient importance to chronicle 
 where he lay. Who cared, after all, save the sorrowing 
 woman far away in Holland, made helpless by distance 
 and powerless by poverty ? 
 
 And thus to-day no one can point the finger of scorn 
 or bestow a look of pity on the tomb of Friedrich of the 
 Palatinate, the Whiter King.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 D'ESPINAY 
 
 " Mourir pour ma belle 
 Tra-la-la." 
 
 ENG years had passed, and still Elizabeth Stuart 
 waited at the Hague for the ever-deferred return 
 to Heidelberg. The world had almost forgotten 
 that she was only a visitor in Holland, and her Court 
 on the Voorhout was universally recognised as a centre 
 of culture. It was the fashion for travellers to pause 
 a few days at the Hague and to be presented to her 
 Majesty. It did not signify that the house on the Lange 
 Voorhout had grown very shabby, with tattered viol-brown 
 velvet hangings and threadbare chair-covers ; it did not 
 matter that her Majesty's debts were so numerous now 
 that, as she put it, she was fully accredited to the debtors' 
 prison ! The entree to her Court was more sought after 
 than an invitation to the Binnenhof, where Amalia Solms 
 ruled in solid, comfortable splendour. 
 
 Somehow, albeit Elizabeth Stuart had said adieu to 
 youth, she remained the queen of charm, the romantic 
 figure it was profoundly interesting to have seen. Tra- 
 vellers like Mister John Evelyn, on the grand tour, 
 hastened to kiss her Majesty's hand, and he recorded 
 the fact in his diary among the accounts of all the re- 
 markable things he had seen on his travels. 
 
 Sometimes it seemed to Elizabeth Stuart as though 
 her whole strange past had been a dream, some romance 
 she had heard. All the actors in that Prague drama 
 had vanished from her life. Old Anhalt, after years of 
 wandering as a proscribed rebel, had received a free 
 pardon from the Emperor, and had retired to his castle 
 
 379
 
 380 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 of Bernburg, where he had lived in entire seclusion until 
 his death in 1630. Christel, too, at last set free from 
 his prison in Vienna upon parole never more to fight 
 against the Emperor, had withdrawn to Bernburg, and 
 had married a princess of the House of Holstein-Sonder- 
 burg. He had passed as utterly out of Elizabeth Stuart's 
 life as though he had indeed perished on the battlefield 
 of the White Mountain. " Alas ' I am as useless to you 
 as a dead man ! " he had once written to her, for each 
 year he wrote her a formal letter which, for all its brevity, 
 still let her know that she, and she alone, was the romance 
 of his life. Yet he never came to Holland, but remained 
 faithfully with his Eleanora of Holstein and his mono- 
 tonous existence. The Thurns, father and son, were dead. 
 My Lady Phyllis Devereux and the other ladies-in-waiting 
 had long left her and were married in England. Her High- 
 ness Louise Juliane was dead. Elizabeth Stuart lived now 
 with a new young world ; she shared her memories with 
 no one. Often she spoke of old days with faithful little 
 Craven, but he, too, only knew her life since her sojourn 
 at the Hague. 
 
 Her Majesty's children were grown men and women 
 now ; mighty troublesome, too, they were. The princes, 
 turbulent and ardent, were the acknowledged ringleaders 
 of the riotous bands of young nobles, Dutch and foreign, 
 who were at the Hague. Not Karlutz, indeed ! He had 
 grown into a handsome, self-satisfied man, stern to the 
 failings of others, with a cold pomposity which some took 
 for dignity ; strong, because he was absolutely indifferent 
 to the feelings of his companions. " Alas ! alas ! how 
 narrow-hearted is Karlutz ! " the Queen cried to the Prin- 
 cess Elizabeth. 
 
 " Madame ma mere, my brother takes his task as head 
 of the house very seriously," the learned maiden answered ; 
 and the Queen sighed, for the years had taught her to sigh 
 instead of to rage. She often felt herself to be younger 
 than her own children. Certainly the Princess Elizabeth, 
 with her wise, sober ways and her austere studies, was all 
 unsuited to the Queen's strong, direct nature. Henriette,
 
 D'ESPINAY 381 
 
 gentle and merry, with her fair face and the flaxen hair 
 which she had inherited from her Danish grandmother, 
 was more to the Queen's taste ; and Louise Hollandine, 
 gay and disorderly, pleased Elizabeth better than her 
 more demure sisters. When Monsieur Descartes, lean 
 and beetle-browed, came to talk philosophy with Prin- 
 cess Elizabeth, the Queen would whisper to Craven : "Ah ! 
 look, I pray you, my lord, at Elizabeth settling the world 
 by a theory ! Alack ! but her deep thoughts have made 
 her nose red, and yet they cannot assuage her sorrow at 
 this unwelcome colouring ! " 
 
 But the Queen was interested in Louise Hollandine's 
 studies. She loved to wander about the studio, which 
 she had given to Louise at Rhenen, while Mijnheer Hont- 
 horst painted, and talked of his student years in Rome, or 
 explained some technical detail of painting to his pupil. 
 
 Little Princess Sophie, sharp-tongued and impulsive, 
 was never a favourite with her mother, and an unspoken 
 tragedy was enacted between them ; the child, seeking 
 for love and jealous of the Queen's affection, grew bitter- 
 hearted, and deemed that Elizabeth Stuart loved her 
 monkeys and her dogs better than her children. Yet 
 this thought was unexpressed then; only years after- 
 wards the bitterness came out when the great Electress 
 of Hanover, Queen Designate of England, wrote her 
 memoirs ; but that was long after Elizabeth Stuart and 
 her world had passed away, and the dead do not rise up 
 to refute even the harsh judgments of their own children. 
 
 Despite the ever-present anxiety of poverty the Queen 
 of Bohemia's Court was gay enough. Many peaceful days 
 were passed at Rhenen, and the Queen almost dreamed 
 herself back at Heidelberg, when she gazed on the mighty 
 sweep of the Rhine, flowing away through the green fields 
 and past the beech-groves. And yet echoes of strife ever 
 came to disturb her. England was in the throes of revolt, 
 really a most distressing episode for King Charles I., though, 
 of course, the whole pother would soon be ended. Prince 
 Rupert and Prince Maurice had fought gallantly in the royal 
 cause, and Elizabeth Stuart proudly heard of their exploits.
 
 382 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Ah sweet niece ! " she cried out to Princess Mary, 
 William II. of Orange's young wife, Princess Royal of 
 England, " would we were men to lend a hand against 
 these prick-eared rebels ! I vow I envy our cousin Char- 
 lotte de la Tremouille ! What a splendid destiny that gave 
 a woman the opportunity to show such courage ! " 
 
 " She was ever a trifle mannish, methinks, ma cousine," 
 said Princess Amalia, who was present. 
 
 " She is a woman of spirit, Amalia. Lord love us ! we 
 can all learn to brew possets and to stitch a seam, but few 
 of us would venture to hold a castle against a horde of 
 rascally besiegers ! " the Queen cried. She took a letter 
 from a casket filled with papers. 
 
 " Here is a letter from Rupert which tells how, two 
 years ago, Charlotte held out for many weeks ; how, at 
 last, my Lord Fairfax went off back to the army, leaving 
 the siege of Lathoin House to a wretched old attorney, 
 who had the house attacked with mortar and cannon ! 
 Fairfax was ashamed of fighting against a woman, I'll be 
 bound ! Rupert had the honour of coming to my Lady 
 of Derby's rescue; at his approach the besiegers slunk 
 away." 
 
 Princess Mary's pale cheeks glowed, and her eyes were 
 lit with enthusiasm at this story ; but Amalia of Orange 
 looked sour and self-righteous. 
 
 " Very fine, no doubt ; but scarcely womanly," she said. 
 
 " Womanly ! " cried the Queen, " the word womanly 
 has been invented by men who want a silly fool to hang 
 about them and humour their every whim. Womanly ! 
 why should it be against a woman's nature to behave like 
 a gentleman ? " 
 
 " I do not understand your Majesty," said Amalia in a 
 disagreeable voice. 
 
 " I never thought you would, cousin." answered the 
 Queen good-humouredly, " but this I tell you, that if 
 women can save England, the King is not in so sorry a 
 plight after all ! I hear that even Cromwell's womenkind 
 are Royalists at heart, and my Lady Fairfax is so openly 
 loyal, that my lord is much embarrassed thereby."
 
 D'ESPINAY 383 
 
 " It is surely unseemly for a female to oppose her 
 spouse," said Amalia sharply. " I should never question 
 the Stadthouder's wisdom." 
 
 " You get your own way generally, my Lady of Orange, 
 for all your wifely submissiveness," the Queen said im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " I trust I am never unwomanly," retorted Amalia. 
 
 " No, ma cousine, you are never unwomanly," the 
 Queen answered quietly. 
 
 None doubted that the rebellion would be crushed in 
 time ; yet Strafford had gone to his death ; Laud, too, had 
 been sacrificed, and civil war raged over the length and 
 breadth of England. At Marston Moor " God had made 
 Prince Rupert's cavalry to fall like stubble " beneath the 
 rebels swords, and at Naseby the King's army had been 
 entirely vanquished. Montrose had been defeated at 
 Philiphaugh, but the King was now safe in the hands of 
 his loyal Scotsmen, and surely a few months would see 
 the end of this disorder and trouble. That summer of 
 1646 Elizabeth Stuart lingered on at the house on the 
 Lange Voorhout. She heard the English news more 
 promptly in the Hague than at Rhenen, and albeit she 
 was so hopeful of the swift settlement of affairs, she was 
 anxious and ill at ease. Rupert was in France, " dis- 
 graced for the one prudent act of his life ! " as the Queen 
 said, referring to his surrender of Bristol to the Parlia- 
 mentarians. Edward was in Paris, caressed and approved 
 by the whole French Court since his abjuration of Pro- 
 testantism and his marriage with Anne de Gonzaga. 
 Maurice, too, was wandering about somewhere in France. 
 
 Heavy thunder weather brooded over the Hague, even 
 the freshening sea-breeze after set of sun only gave 
 respite. All day the Queen remained in the panelled 
 parlour, with the ragged brown-velvet hangings drawn 
 across the windows to shut out the heat. It was in- 
 tolerably dull at the Hague. The Binnenhof Court had 
 removed to Honsholredijk, the Stadthouder's newly built 
 country palace. Frederik Hendrik, always a martyr to
 
 384 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 gout, had suddenly failed in health, and prematurely old, 
 he had entirely resigned his will to the outwardly sub- 
 missive ordering of Amalia Solms. 
 
 In the small parlour, where years ago Dohna had 
 ministered to King Friedrich that stormy midnight after 
 the accident on the Zuydersee, Louise Hollandine had set 
 up her easel, and was busy drawing a chalk study of 
 Princess Sophie. Louise's gown was crumpled and untidy 
 as usual, and her lace collar was torn. Her brown hair 
 was ruffled, and a smudge of charcoal blackened her 
 cheek. Sophie watched her lazily, she noted each detail 
 of her sister's untidy appearance, noted too, the dinginess 
 of the chairs and table-covers in the small parlour. The 
 door stood open, and they could hear the sound of 
 Princess Henriette singing softly to herself as she sat 
 before her embroidery frame, in the embrasure of one of 
 the passage windows overlooking the courtyard. There 
 was a heavy stillness in the air. 
 
 " What can we do to-day ? It is too hot to live ! " said 
 Sophie ; " and oh ! Louise, your whole face is black ! " 
 
 " Turn your head more to the left, mon enfant, and 
 don't gabble," Louise Hollandine said abstractedly. 
 
 "Is that hateful d'Espinay coming here to-day as 
 usual ? " the girl asked crossly. 
 
 " Monsieur d'Espinay must come each day to speak 
 about the horses, why else is he Master of the Horse ? 
 I cannot think why Elizabeth and all of you are so harsh 
 about him," Louise answered. 
 
 " He is a scurvy knave ! " the girl broke out hotly. 
 
 " Tut, tut, Mistress Pert, such names from a young 
 maiden's lips ! " said Louise, laughing. 
 
 " I hate him, and so doth Philip." 
 
 " Philip and you are foolish children ; d'Espinay treats 
 you as such ; that is why you honour him with your dis- 
 approval," Louise said shrewdly. 
 
 A step-fall came on the stone floor of the corridor, and 
 Elizabeth Stuart entered. She had changed but little 
 during the years. Her figure had grown ampler, her 
 brown hair was streaked with grey, and her face was
 
 D'ESPINAY 385 
 
 paler than of yore, but the great sombre eyes were as 
 brown as ever, and the haunting Stuart smile still played 
 about her lips. 
 
 " Alack ! children," she cried, " I vow I am weary of 
 your sister Elizabeth ; she has sat motionless these two 
 hours reading, bent over her books. Where is Philip ? " 
 
 " He has gone a-riding in the Bosch with the Prince of 
 Portugal and Monsieur de Pellnitz," said Sophie. 
 
 The Queen's face darkened. Young Emanuel of 
 Portugal was the son of that illegitimate Prince of the 
 House of Braganza who had married a penniless and ill- 
 favoured Princess of Nassau, and after an absurd attempt 
 to claim the Portuguese throne, had settled in the Nether- 
 lands. The younger Emanuel did not share in his father's 
 political ambitions ; it was enough for him that kinship 
 gave him the entree to the Binnenhof. He spent his 
 time at the Hague, this riotous, dissolute youth who had 
 sustained a leading part in every broil of the last six 
 years. He and Prince Maurice had been among the 
 young bloods who, some five years since, had held up the 
 Portuguese minister's coach as this fussy, ceremonious 
 diplomat had driven one night down the Voorhout a 
 foolish prank, only meant to annoy the minister; but 
 swords had been drawn and angry words had passed, and 
 shortly afterwards a Portuguese gentleman had challenged 
 Maurice ; a duel had been fought, and, the Portuguese 
 having been run through the heart, Maurice had been 
 obliged to leave the Hague. The Queen had never for- 
 given Emanuel for, as she believed, encouraging Maurice 
 in his wild ways. And now young Prince Philip and he 
 were boon companions ! As for Pellnitz, he was an over- 
 grown schoolboy, bragging, self-assertive, with a round, 
 silly, pug-dog's face, " not a bad boy, but unfortunately a 
 consummate ass," as the Queen put it. 
 
 She sat down on one of the dingy chairs in the little 
 parlour, and calling her spaniel, a descendant of " Brady 
 dog's," she stroked his head gently and lovingly, as though 
 she found comfort in the touch of his silky hair. 
 
 " I cannot think why Monsieur d'Espinay has not been 
 
 2 B
 
 386 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 here to-day. I had somewhat to say to him about the 
 chesnut mare," she began. 
 
 " Perhaps my sister's amiable manners have kept 
 him away ! " interrupted Louise Hollandine. " Our wise 
 Sophie here has just been talking of him in so gentle a 
 way that I was quite touched ! " 
 
 " Silly child," the Queen said sharply to Sophie, " what 
 can you know of D'Espinay ? " 
 
 " Princess Smutty Face there loves him ! " retorted 
 Sophie pertly, pointing at Louise Hollandine. 
 
 " I would have you know that we do not talk of such 
 things, Sophie," answered the Queen ; " think what you 
 like, do what you must, but try neither to behave nor to 
 speak like a kitchen-wench." 
 
 " Monsieur d'Espinay ought to be punished for his rude- 
 ness to me ; I am a grown maiden now, madame ma mere, 
 and " Sophie began impetuously. 
 
 " Ah ! Sophie, be not so anxious to run away from your 
 childhood," the Queen said a little sadly. "Nay," she 
 added, as she saw the angry tears well up in the girl's eyes, 
 " keep your tears until you are wedded ; you will have 
 need of them then." 
 
 Louise Hollandine came and sat on the arm of the 
 Queen's chair. " Little mother, tell me if this drawing 
 is good ? Oh ! Sophie, stop yammering, or your nose will 
 be as red as sister Elizabeth's ! " 
 
 " You all talk too much of Elizabeth's red nose ; she 
 is a handsome woman, and really learned, Rupert says," 
 the Queen remarked. Sophie turned away, and lifting a 
 corner of the shabby window curtain, peered out into the 
 sunlight. 
 
 The sound of spurs clanking and a swift, light tread 
 came from the vestibule, and after a moment a lackey 
 appeared at the door announcing that Monsieur d'Espinay 
 awaited her Majesty in the parlour. A flush rose to Louise 
 Hollandine's cheek, and she hastily smoothed out her 
 crumpled lace collar. The Queen rose. 
 
 " I advise you to take the charcoal off your face, ma 
 fille, if you are going to see Monsieur d'Espinay. French-
 
 D'ESPINAY 387 
 
 men are particular about a woman's appearance," she said 
 with one of her whimsical smiles, which robbed her shrewd 
 sayings of any hint of harshness. 
 
 " I have no wish to see Monsieur d'Espinay, ma mere ; 
 he comes to see your Majesty, not me ! " Louise answered 
 crossly. 
 
 " Foolish child ! " the Queen said, laying her strong 
 white hand on her daughter's shoulder ; " and yet, ah ! 
 why should you not be foolish while you are young ? Life 
 teaches grey wisdom soon enough ! " She sighed as she 
 left the small parlour. She knew that Louise Hollandine 
 had a fancy for D'Espinay, a fancy which gave interest to 
 the dull, dull days at the Hague. It was a mere caprice, 
 of no importance ; Louise Hollandine's was no deep nature 
 which would lead her to the gates of passion and despair ; 
 she would have a hundred light fancies. 
 
 " ' The Princess sighed for the bold cavalier, but he 
 would have none of her,' " recited Sophie in mock poetic 
 tones. 
 
 " You are an odious child ! " Louise broke out angrily. 
 " Our mother is right when she says you speak like a 
 kitchen-wench." 
 
 " Well, Philip says that all the town prates of you and 
 D'Espinay, my noble sister. And they say more they say 
 mother likes him overmuch, and that Craven is a sad 
 man. They say that our mother may never have put off 
 widow's weeds for our father, but that she gives favours 
 to D'Espinay which are unseemly ; they say " Sophie 
 poured out her silly gossip with all the gusto of a young 
 maiden who does not understand the hideous import of 
 her words. Louise Hollandine turned on Sophie angrily. 
 
 " Do you know what you are saying, you forward little 
 hussy ? How dare you speak of the Queen thus ? I 
 shall tell our mother all you have said ! " she cried. 
 
 " You may go tell her what you will, and I'll tell her, 
 too, that you make the sign of the cross on your breast 
 before you pray each night ! I'll tell her that you are turn- 
 ing Popish, Louise ; you know what she felt when Edward 
 became an idolater ! " the girl answered shrewishly.
 
 388 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " You would turn spy, would you ? " Louise answered 
 haughtily, but she had grown pale. 
 
 " The two Princesses Palatine, Louise the Informer and 
 Sophie the Spy ! " Sophie cried mockingly. 
 
 " What a noise, why must you talk so loud ? " came a 
 calm voice, and Princess Elizabeth entered the parlour, a 
 book in her hand. 
 
 " Some talk, some read, for their amusement," retorted 
 Sophie, ready as usual with a pert answer. 
 
 Louise took the book from her sister's hand, " ' Maria 
 Stuart/ by Joost van der Vondel," she read out, " I marvel 
 that your erudite Highness condescends to read such light 
 literature ! What would Monsieur Descartes say ? " 
 
 " Great literature is never light, but light literature is 
 sometimes great," said Elizabeth pedantically, " and this 
 fine tragedy touches our family history too nearly to be 
 neglected." 
 
 Louise Hollandine turned over the pages mechanically. 
 Dutch wearied her. In vain Mijnheer Huijghens, their 
 friend and neighbour, recommended the graceful poems 
 of Tesselschade, or waxed eloquent over the beauty of 
 Barlaeus' passionate love songs, addressed to the poetess 
 Tesselschade herself. Louise Hollandine said Dutch was 
 a nonsense language, only fit to talk in, but if you wished 
 to read, then pray read French, if you had not got 
 an English book. Indeed, she scarcely ever read, she 
 painted, and prattled, and laughed with gallants. She 
 had grown a little reckless, too, of late. It had been gall 
 to her seeing her cousin and erstwhile admirer, Friedrich 
 Wilhelm of Brandenburg, affianced to Louise of Orange. 
 Heaven knows, he was no pretty boy, this future Great 
 Elector ; but he was strong-willed, strong-brained, gifted 
 with the power of engraving his personality upon the lives 
 of all who knew him, and it would have been a brilliant 
 match for the penniless Palatine Princess. But his father, 
 George William, getting wind of the youth's infatuation, 
 had recalled him to Berlin, and but a few years later 
 had arranged a marriage between him and the well-dowered 
 Louise of Orange. George William had ever played an
 
 D'ESPINAY 389 
 
 ugly role in the life of Elizabeth Stuart, and almost 
 his last act had been to wreck her daughter's prospects. 
 
 Louise Hollandine stood turning over the leaves of 
 Vondel's " Maria Stuart," while she listened to a clear, 
 rather aggressive voice speaking with the Queen in the 
 oaken parlour. Princess Elizabeth, meanwhile, had fallen 
 into a reverie, and stood beside the easel absently crumb- 
 ling a bit of charcoal between her fingers. Sophie, sitting 
 near the window, still held the fold of the shabby velvet 
 curtain which she had pulled aside to observe the hated 
 D'Espinay's arrival. A shaft of sunshine fell through this 
 opening, and lit Sophie's mass of curling, auburn hair 
 to an aureole. Her inquisitive, round brown eyes now 
 scrutinised Louise Hollandine, and her full lips were 
 drawn into a sneering line. 
 
 A lackey came to the door. " Her Majesty bade me 
 tell your Highnesses that the refection is served in the 
 oaken parlour," he said. 
 
 " ' Now we will arise and seek refreshment of fruits 
 and cool sherbets, even though we eat with the stranger, 
 the Philistine ! ' " Sophie chanted mockingly, " ' and the 
 Princess will hearken to his words, and sigh out her love 
 at his feet ! ' " 
 
 Louise Hollandine shot her an angry glance, but 
 Princess Elizabeth laughed. " Come, sisters," she said, 
 " Monsieur d'Espinay cannot frighten us away from our 
 usual refection ! Sophie, be quiet, you tormenting little 
 monster, and do not enrage Louise," she whispered, as 
 they all three passed out of the room. 
 
 In the oaken parlour a polished table was set, where, 
 on silver dishes the few that had not long since gone 
 to the pawnbroker heaps of peaches and raspberries 
 were piled. A tall caraffe of sherbet, another of pale 
 white wine, and a little flagon of Hippocras were set 
 beside a silver dish, laden with those little tourtes a la 
 combalet for which the late Queen, Marie de Me*dicis, had 
 given the recipe to Elizabeth Stuart when she had passed 
 through Holland some eight years since. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart was seated near the table, a silver
 
 390 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 goblet of sherbet at her elbow. She was laughing as 
 the young princesses entered. Monsieur le Comte de 
 1'Espinay, so much disliked by Princess Sophie, sat on a 
 low tabouret near her Majesty. He was a slim, graceful 
 man of thirty-five, dark-haired and olive-skinned, with 
 bold, laughing brown eyes, and a slight, upturned mous- 
 tache. He was elaborately dressed in the latest mode : 
 a light blue satin doublet, slashed from the elbow nearly 
 to the shoulder to show the delicate linen under-sleeve ; 
 lace cuffs, from the wrist to a little below middle-arm ; 
 a falling lace collar, jewelled buttons fastening his tunic, 
 his slender legs encased in loose satin breeches, and his 
 boots ! Sophie cast a scornful look at them ; if ever a 
 mode was devised to impede movement it was this new- 
 fangled footgear of soft leather boots, square-toed, high- 
 heeled, with the tops wrinkled down to just above the 
 ankle, the inside of the tops broadened out to hold an 
 amplitude of lace frills, and over the instep a wide, 
 ornamented leather flap, which stuck out several inches 
 on each side beyond the foot. On a chair near by was 
 d'Espinay's felt hat, with the little ribbons falling from 
 the rosette beneath the feather; it was of the latest 
 design, of course, with a tiny brim and a very high 
 crown. Across the chair lay an elegant cane with an 
 elaborate gold head, ornamented with a bunch of blue 
 ribbons. Monsieur le Comte's voluminous blue satin 
 cloak was hung over the back of the chair ; for, as Sophie 
 guessed, D'Espinay had not discarded it till the Queen 
 had been granted the boon of seeing the Frenchman 
 in his complete new costume. His whole aspect was 
 immaculately careless, a carefully arranged negligence. 
 
 He rose as the Princesses entered and made three 
 deep bows, the last, which was to Sophie, being so 
 profound as to seem a mockery. 
 
 " Que les fleurs de 1'etd sont douces ! " he said with 
 light impertinence, " to the wanderer in the dusty desert 
 of life, what an oasis of coolness and beauty I have found ! " 
 
 " You have noticed the coolness then, monsieur ? " said 
 Sophie sharply.
 
 D'ESPINAY 391 
 
 " Your coolness, Princess ! " he replied to Sophie ; 
 " your beauty, Altesses ! " he added, bowing to the other 
 Princesses. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart laughed. " Poor little Sophie is 
 troubled with ill- temper to-day, D'Espinay. Give her 
 a combalet lemon cake, and then come and talk to me." 
 
 Sophie, with tears of mortification in her eyes, sub- 
 sided into sullen silence, while the other ladies gathered 
 round the table. Louise Hollandine gave the French- 
 man a little goblet filled with Hippocras. " You always 
 like this sweet syrup poison best," she said. 
 
 " When you give it to me," he whispered. Louise 
 looked at her mother quickly, half-hoping, half-fearing 
 that she had heard the whispered words. The Queen 
 was feeding her spaniel with crumbs of the combalet 
 cake, and paid no heed ; but Louise's face fell when she 
 saw the expression of D'Espinay 's eyes as he watched the 
 Queen. 
 
 " What news out of France, D'Espinay ? " the Queen 
 asked. 
 
 " Ce singe Mazarin ! they only write of him in my 
 letters ; he is for ever with the Queen they say, and 
 his niece is the little King's playmate. Truly an Italian 
 plague ! " he answered. D'Espinay always affected an 
 intimate knowledge of the doings at the French Court, 
 though in reality he knew but little thereof. He had 
 played a foolish part enough in France before he came 
 to Holland. Monsieur, brother of Louis XIII. and father 
 of la grande Mademoiselle, had a court of love hidden 
 away at one of his castles near Tours. Here a certain 
 Louise de la Marbiliere ruled, as queen of Gaston 
 d'Orleans' heart, and many gallants from Paris came 
 hither to enliven the Marbiliere. Now d'Espinay in- 
 sinuated himself, if not into the lady's affections, at least 
 into her confidence. He was essentially a man women 
 liked to see and talk with ; he was diverting, and under- 
 stood how to discuss women's clothes. He could dance 
 " like an angel," the Marbiliere declared, though it 
 seems unlikely that she was sufficiently acquainted with
 
 392 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the terpsichorean prowess of the seraphim to have been 
 competent thus to appraise D'Espinay's performance. 
 D'Espinay could talk of sentimental depths which ladies 
 believed to be philosophical thought ; D'Espinay was 
 deliciously indiscreet under the seal of secrecy ; D'Espinay, 
 in fact, was a man whom older women liked, a man 
 with whom very young girls believed themselves to be 
 enamoured. Gaston d'Orleans, however, had found his 
 whispering with the Marbiliere to be too familiar, and a 
 lettre-de-cachet for " le petit D'Espinay " had directed his 
 unwilling, high-heeled feet to the unperfumed, painfully 
 inelegant Bastille. Here he had remained for a few 
 months, and then a very well arranged amourette with a 
 turnkey's daughter had enabled him to escape. Really 
 it was by this time of no importance to Gaston d'Orleans, 
 or any one else, whether he escaped or not ; but D'Espinay 
 arrived at the Hague with a fine story of his hair- 
 breadth escape, and of the consternation with which it 
 had filled his gaolers. The rest of the history, concern- 
 ing the Marbiliere and the turnkey's daughter, he told 
 in confidence to several Dutch gentlemen, instead of 
 publishing it in the Gazette de France, and in a few days 
 the Hague knew all he had said with several picturesque 
 Rabelesian details added. In Paris D'Espinay would have 
 been one of a crowd of petits messieurs ; in the Hague 
 he was a personage of note. For his part he thought 
 the Hague provincial or said in confidence that he did 
 which impressed and angered the Haguers. Each 
 Hague lady consoled him, and incidentally told him how 
 she could really find no lace collars, no shoe roses, no 
 modish hats or gowns in Holland. Alack ! she had to wait 
 to purchase such things from the itinerant French mer- 
 chants ! He affected to believe that these ladies really 
 could not wear a Dutch-made garment; it seemed he 
 had never seen the Amsterdam furriers, mantle-makers, 
 seamstresses entering the portals of the ladies' mansions ; 
 which was curious, as his eyes, so languishingly indiscreet 
 in their habitual wanderings, were not prone to fail him. 
 And D'Espinay told each delighted Dutch mevrouw how
 
 D'ESPINAY 393 
 
 much more elegant she was than the Duchesse de Longue- 
 ville ; and as for Madame de Chevreuse, she could not 
 even vie with mevrouw ! " Ninon de 1'Enclos, how is 
 she ? " they would query. " Ah ! I never cared for 
 prostitutes, mevrouw ! I find the ladies of the Court 
 sufficient ! " he would answer ; and the good dames 
 preened themselves at this, not hearing the insolence 
 under the flattery. 
 
 But amid all his vapid egoism one deeper feeling had 
 sprung up, and that was a blind worship for the Queen of 
 Bohemia, despite her fifty years. She treated him with 
 easy kindness. If he paid her one of his too outspoken 
 compliments she answered him with a shrewd, humorous 
 jest ; she often told him bluntly that he was a fool for his 
 pains ; yet she suffered him to be much in her company 
 for the simple reason that he amused her, and seeing 
 through his gay, insolent, ceremonious manners, she had 
 found him a kind-hearted fellow enough. One day, 
 chancing to ask him of his youth in France, she had 
 seen the tears spring to his eyes when he had spoken of 
 his mother. 
 
 " Ah, madarne, it is terrible that I cannot go to pray 
 on her grave," he said ; adding : " Ne vous moquez pas de 
 moi, madame." 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart had understood that this foppish, 
 effeminate braggart had a real Frenchman's devotion 
 to his mother, that devotion which is so often an effemi- 
 nate man's one strong feeling. 
 
 " Poor D'Espinay ! " she had said gently, and had laid 
 her hand on his shoulder, "pray God for your mother. 
 He will hear you even if you cannot kneel at her grave." 
 (Merciful heavens ! if the Puritans could have heard 
 " God's own handmaiden " recommending prayers for the 
 dead ! ) From that day D'Espinay had vowed her an 
 ardent service which had given the Haguers that manna 
 of the mind which they loved so food for scandal. 
 
 Louise Hollandine had a fancy for D'Espinay, and he 
 amused himself with a light intrigue with her, just a few 
 whispered words, sometimes a billet-doux; his touch
 
 394 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 lingered a little on her hand when they danced the pavyn 
 or he taught her the figures of the gavotte, that new dance 
 which was beginning to be the mode at the Court of 
 France. She was young and attractive : she liked him 
 and she resembled Elizabeth Stuart. 
 
 That June day as the Queen and her daughters sat 
 there in the oaken parlour, it seemed to D'Espinay that 
 Destiny had been good to him after all ; the Hague was 
 dull " Ah ! a mourir jeune," as he said but all things 
 were bearable, if it was possible to see Elizabeth Stuart 
 each day, as he did now, for since her English Master of 
 the Horse, Howard, had killed a gentleman in a duel and 
 had been forced to fly the country, D'Espinay had been 
 named Master of the Horse to the Queen of Bohemia. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, " I hear there are fine stories in 
 Paris about the Queen and Mazarin. Ah, bonjour, 
 Altesse ! bonjour, my Lord of Craven ! " he added, as 
 Prince Philip and Craven entered the parlour. 
 
 Craven spoke to D'Espinay in his friendly, quiet way, 
 but Philip ignored his greeting. The boy's face was 
 flushed, and on his brow the brown hair lay in damp 
 curls ; a tall, strong lad, but rather lumpy, with a thick- 
 set figure like his grandfather, James I. of England, but 
 here the resemblance ended, for Philip had a swarthy face, 
 round, dark eyes, and a heavy, lowering look. His grey 
 cloth riding-jerkin was dusty and untidy, his turndown 
 linen collar was crumpled, and his riding-boots were white 
 with dust. The Queen looked at him coldly. She had 
 never cared for Philip, and his rough ways and fierce 
 temper had often disturbed and alarmed her for his future. 
 
 " Philip, you are covered with dust ; can you not come 
 to me in a more seemly fashion ? " she said. 
 
 The boy's face grew scarlet. " I am no fine lady in 
 breeches, madame," he said sullenly, casting a sidelong 
 look of hatred at D'Espinay. 
 
 "You will do me the favour to brush your clothes 
 before you drink your sherbet," the Queen answered, as 
 though speaking to a naughty child. " Go now, my son," 
 she added quietly, seeing Philip did not move.
 
 D'ESPINAY 395 
 
 He put out his hand to take his tankard of sherbet. 
 
 " Nay ! " the Queen cried laughingly, " not a drop, my 
 son, until you are brushed 3 " She took the tankard from 
 his hand. " Go now ! " she commanded. 
 
 Philip turned on his heel. D'Espinay, who stood in 
 his way, moved aside, but Philip purposely pushed against 
 him roughly, leaving a deal of dust on the arm of the 
 Frenchman's delicate satin doublet. D'Espinay brushed 
 it off angrily, but said nothing. 
 
 Now Princess Henriette, entering the parlour, met Philip 
 at the door. " Whither away so fast, Phil ? " she said. 
 
 " To make myself fit to associate with overdressed cox- 
 combs ! " he answered loudly ; and passed out of the room. 
 
 For a moment silence reigned, and the sisters looked at 
 one another in consternation. It was no light thing to 
 offend the Queen; she could be stern enough once she 
 was roused. 
 
 D'Espinay came to the rescue. " The building at the 
 Palace in the Wood goes apace, madame. 'Tis but a few 
 months since your Majesty laid the first stone, and already 
 the outer walls are nigh finished," he said. The talk 
 drifted to other channels. Amalia Solms was, as usual, 
 on no very friendly terms with her daughter-in-law, the 
 Princess Royal of England, and d'Espinay told the Queen 
 how the French Minister, de Thou, who had just been to 
 Honsholredijk, had returned with a story of how high 
 words had passed between the ladies even in his presence. 
 
 " My poor niece, alas ! she is learning life's harshness 
 soon ! But the young ever gain the victory ; they have the 
 weapon Time wherewith to conquer the older generation. 
 But 'tis cruel of her Highness Amalia to harry the child 
 just now when she is so beset with fears for her father. 
 Things are not going well in England, alas ! " the Queen 
 said. 
 
 They talked on peacefully, Louise Hollandine gazing 
 at D'Espinay the while, and the other sisters laughing 
 and talking together. 
 
 At length D'Espinay rose to take his leave. 
 
 " Come to-morrow at this hour, monsieur, and tell me
 
 396 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 how de Thou found the Stadtholder. Alas ! I fear his 
 Highness will ne'er see another summer," the Queen said 
 as he kissed her hand. 
 
 In the cool, lofty vestibule D'Espinay paused a moment 
 to arrange the folds of his satin cloak. When he ap- 
 proached the house-door he saw Prince Philip standing 
 with his back against it D'Espinay scanned him with 
 an insolent smile. 
 
 " Has your Highness turned sentinel ? " he asked 
 mockingly. 
 
 The boy caught him by the cloak, and half-dragged 
 him into the little parlour near the door. 
 
 " I have to speak with you, my Lord Count ! " he said 
 as he closed and bolted the door. 
 
 " It is a strange way of asking for an interview, 
 monseigneur ! " the Frenchman replied. 
 
 " You will come here no more, monsieur ; do you 
 hear ? I know what is said in the town ! They prattle 
 of you and of my sister worse still, of you and of my 
 mother ! You will come here no more ! " Philip said 
 fiercely. 
 
 " Since when do you give orders in her Majesty's 
 house, mon petit Prince ? " said D'Espinay, growing very 
 pale. " I shall obey her Majesty's commands and wait 
 upon her when she wills it." 
 
 " My brothers are away ; my mother's honour is in my 
 care ! You will come here no more ! " the boy cried. 
 
 " Bah ! monseigneur, the heat has turned your head ! " 
 said D'Espinay scornfully. 
 
 " I tell you that, if you come here again, I will kill 
 you, you sneaking French loon ! " Philip muttered 
 between his teeth. 
 
 " Take back your words, or even from your mother's 
 son I must ask satisfaction," cried D'Espinay. 
 
 " Even from my mother's son ! What is my mother 
 to you ? " Philip said wildly. 
 
 " Your mother is the Queen of my Heart ! " D'Espinay 
 answered. 
 
 " You dare tell me that ? What they say is true, then I
 
 D'ESPINAY 397 
 
 God ! my mother the mistress of a French renegade ! " 
 the Prince said in a hoarse voice. 
 
 D'Espinay started. " How dare you twist my words so ? 
 Monseigneur, I demand satisfaction ! In an hour's time, 
 near the new House in the Bosch monseigneur, I shall 
 have the honour of defending your mother's good name 
 from her own son's foul insinuations ! " He turned away, 
 unbolted the door, and passed into the corridor. Craven 
 was coming along from the oaken parlour, but neither 
 Philip nor D'Espinay saw him. 
 
 " In an hour I will meet you, monseigneur, near the 
 House in the Wood ! Or shall I send my seconds to 
 you ? " D'Espinay said. 
 
 " We need no seconds to arrange our duel ; sir, are you 
 trying to draw back ? " said Philip. 
 
 " In an hour, et a la mort ! " answered the Frenchman 
 furiously. 
 
 The following morning a group of young men stood 
 beneath the trees on the Vijverberg : Emanuel of Portugal, 
 Pellnitz, Ferdinand Brederode, a few beardless, diplomatic 
 secretaries, the youthful Constantine Huijghens, son to the 
 poet, and several English youths, visitors at the Hague. 
 In their midst stood Prince Philip. He was speaking in 
 loud, excited tones. 
 
 " Some interfering fool had sent the town-guard ; is that 
 what they say ? My Lord of Craven was it ? I'll dare 
 swear he'll take the blame to save a pother ! But it was 
 D'Espinay himself, I tell you ! " he vociferated. 
 
 " No cavalier could do such a thing, monseigneur ! 
 He is of good blood after all," said a young Dutchman. 
 
 " I tell you he had warned the town-guard ! " cried 
 Philip. " Emanuel, you thought so, and you, too, Pellnitz ! 
 None knew we were to fight. Craven did not know it, 
 so how could he have sent the guard ? Only D'Espinay 
 and his seconds knew ; they came with him directly, they 
 could not have told any one. Why, the town-guard came 
 close on D'Espinay's heels " 
 
 " I should kill him like a frightened cur, if he behaves
 
 398 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 like one," cried the youngest of the group, wishful to show 
 what a manly fire-eater he was. 
 
 Philip turned to him. "You are right," he said 
 slowly. 
 
 At this moment half-a-dozen finely dressed gentlemen 
 sauntered down the broad walk of the Vijverberg. In 
 their midst was D'Espinay, laughing and talking. Philip 
 watched him approach; then feeling the expectant gaze 
 of his admiring companions upon him, he drew himself 
 up and stepped forward. 
 
 " Monsieur le Comte d'Espinay ! " he said, " the timely 
 interruption of our meeting yesterday does not annul my 
 interdict. I pray you remember ! " 
 
 D'Espinay laughed. " We will speak of this with her 
 Majesty, your mother, this afternoon, mon Prince ! " he 
 said lightly, and passed on, leaving Prince Philip with 
 lowering brow and twitching lips. 
 
 The group on the Vijverberg dispersed. Philip, 
 Emanuel of Portugal, and Pellnitz walked away together. 
 
 That afternoon was heavy and airless, no breeze stirred 
 the trees on the Kneuterdijk, and the limes before the 
 Queen's house were as still as though they had been 
 wooden playthings. Despite the heat, Elizabeth Stuart 
 and the Princesses had driven to Scheveningen. 
 
 " I'll sit here no longer, mewed up like an old dame," 
 the Queen had cried. 
 
 The whole town seemed deserted asleep in the sultry 
 air. About three of the clock D'Espinay was seen pro- 
 ceeding down the narrow Hartogstraat from his dwelling 
 in the Papestraat. He was gaily attired, and in the 
 summer sunshine he looked like some flower prince out 
 of a fairy masque, with his rose-satin cloak, his ivory- 
 coloured tunic, and the wrinkled soft boots with the falling 
 lace frills. Monsieur le Comte d'Espinay was going to 
 bestow his beauteous presence upon the French minister, 
 and then later he would visit her Majesty of Bohemia. 
 He tripped onward, humming a gay little tune between 
 his teeth :
 
 D'ESPINAY 399 
 
 " Mourir pour ma belle, 
 
 Tra-la-la ! 
 
 Mieux vant vivre pour elle, 
 La ! la ! la ! " 
 
 As he crossed the broad road of the Kneuterdijk he 
 glanced at the windows of the Queen's house, which, 
 standing at the end of the Voorhout, commanded a full 
 view of the Kneuterdijk. All the curtains were drawn 
 to shut out the sun, but D'Espinay fancied he saw the 
 curtain of the small parlour-window move, as though 
 touched by the hand of some one watching. Princess 
 Louise Hollandine, perhaps ? D'Espinay paused. Should 
 he go in for a few moments and steal a kiss from the 
 enamoured maiden ? Her lips were soft and fresh, and 
 if you may not pluck the rose, is it not wise to enjoy the 
 bud's fragrance ? 
 
 " Mourir pour ma belle, 
 Tra-la-la ! " 
 
 No, he must no longer play with the poor little lady's 
 heart it was unworthy of him ; he who loved the Queen 
 could not . He tripped on and entered the cool 
 precincts of the French Legation. 
 
 In the Queen's house the curtain over the small parlour- 
 window was pushed aside, and Prince Philip's dark face 
 appeared in the opening, over his shoulders peeped 
 Emanuel of Portugal and Pellnitz. They whispered 
 together, and Philip pointed towards the Heulstraatje 
 and to the Hartogstraat. Then the curtain was closed 
 once more, and the slumberous calm of the Kneuterdijk 
 was undisturbed. 
 
 Monsieur d'Espinay was annoyed. Really he who spares 
 his head must use his legs ! He had forgotten to bring 
 the latest number of the Gazette de France, in which there 
 was an account of the oration held at Stockholm on 
 Oxenstierna's elevation to the rank of Count by that 
 wonder of learning, Queen Christina. D'Espinay had 
 promised to show the Gazette to the Princess Elizabeth, for 
 of course the two prodigies of wisdom were of interest to
 
 400 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 each other. D'Espinay, like King James, disapproved of 
 learned maidens ; but it was his habit to be eager in his 
 service even of erudite ladies. 
 
 " Mourir pour ma belle, 
 Tra-la-la," 
 
 he hummed ; how that silly little melody pursued him 
 to-day ! He took his plumed hat and beribboned cane 
 from the French minister's lackey, and stood, for a 
 moment, on the Legation steps, blinking at the haze of 
 sunshine which dazzled his eyes after the discreet light 
 of Monsieur de Thou's writing-room. Should he send 
 the lackey to fetch the Gazette from the Papestraat ? No, 
 his blue-satin cloak was lying over his parlour-chair ; the 
 fellow might smudge it with his hot hand ; D'Espinay 
 would go himself. He flung a silver piece to the 
 lackey, and went down the shallow steps conscious of 
 his munificence. 
 
 " Mourir pour ma belle, 
 Tra-la-la," 
 
 he hummed. He was looking at the lace frills of his 
 boot-tops how he hoped they would not get dusty before 
 he arrived at her Majesty's house. Pardieu ! why had 
 he forgotten the Gazette ? Busy with his thoughts, he 
 directed his elegant steps to the Heulstraatje; it smelled 
 less vile than the Hartogstraat, he reflected. 
 
 " What a pity the town-guard is not here, Monsieur 
 le Lache ! " A mocking voice interrupted his reverie. 
 
 D'Espinay started violently. Pellnitz stood before him, 
 blocking the entrance to the Heulstraatje. 
 
 " Monsieur, the pleasantry is offensive ! " he answered 
 boldly, but drew back when he saw that Pellnitz held 
 a bare rapier in his hand. 
 
 " Que diable ! " he cried, and clutched beneath the 
 folds of his satin cloak. " Que diable ! " he repeated 
 more faintly when he felt that he had no sword at his 
 side it was not the mode with that style of doublet. 
 
 " The pleasantry is ill-timed, monsieur, let me pass," 
 he said waveringly. Pellnitz glanced past D'Espinay ;
 
 D'ESPINAY 401 
 
 Prince Philip and Emanuel of Portugal were running 
 down the Kneuterdijk to the Hartogstraat. 
 
 "You will not pass this way, sir," Pellnitz said, and 
 pricked the Frenchman's boot-frill with his rapier's point. 
 
 " There are other ways," D'Espinay said with affected 
 carelessness. He turned on his heel and went down the 
 Kneuterdijk. When he saw that the Hartogstraat was 
 empty he breathed freer, though he was haunted by the 
 sound of running. He paused ; should he go back to 
 the Legation ? Bah ! he would look like a poltroon before 
 the lackeys ! He went on up the Hartogstraat. Un- 
 molested he reached the Hoogstraat ; here a number of 
 burgher's wives and busy people hurried along despite 
 the heat. D'Espinay took his lace kerchief from his 
 doublet and wiped his face. It was, of course, the heat 
 which had brought those drops of sweat to his brow. He 
 strolled on a few paces. 
 
 " Tudieu ! " he muttered, for at the entrance to the 
 Papestraat stood Pellnitz with drawn sword. " Monsieur, 
 this is childish, let me pass ! " he cried. " The pleasantry 
 goes too far ; let me pass, I say ! " 
 
 " It is no pleasantry," cried a voice behind him ; 
 " cowards are killed like rats ! " 
 
 D'Espinay faced round quickly. " Monseigneur ! " he 
 faltered. Philip stood there with Emanuel of Braganza 
 beside him ; both youths carried bared rapiers. 
 
 There was a moment's pause. The passers by halted ; 
 the women huddled together ; one young maiden screamed. 
 
 " Where is the town-guard ? " called a portly burgher. 
 Philip gave a rough laugh. 
 
 " Monsieur d'Espinay knows that best ! " he shouted, 
 and pricked the Frenchman in the shoulder with his 
 rapier. 
 
 " I am unarmed monseigneur I cannot " he 
 cried shrilly. Philip lunged at him ; but D'Espinay 
 avoided the sword's point, and, turning, fled wildly down 
 the Hoogstraat. 
 
 " Mourir pour ma belle, 
 Tra-la-la." 
 
 2 C
 
 402 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 The light melody still sang in his brain . On he 
 dashed ; a child toddled out of a house-door ; he knocked 
 it over and it raised a piercing yell. Once he stumbled 
 " Holy Mary ! help me ! " he gasped. The frill of his 
 boot-top was torn, and a long jagged string of lace nearly 
 tripped him up. They were close behind him. He ran 
 faster, but he heard them gaining on him. Quickly he 
 remembered that a little seamstress, who was over-fond 
 of him, lived in a common lodging-house in the Hal- 
 straatje the door leading up those public stairs always 
 stood ajar if he could get there he could shut out his 
 pursuers. Madness ! they could not mean to kill him ! 
 He half paused and glanced back ; the three young men 
 were almost on his heels ; Philip's face was set it was 
 no pleasantry then ? 
 
 " Mourir pour ma belle, 
 Tra-la-la." 
 
 He sped on ah ! the Golden Head Tavern he might 
 find a refuge there ! No, the door was shut. He felt 
 as if the blood must rush out of his eyes he was blinded 
 gasping spent. He made a rush towards the Hal- 
 straatje. What was that ? He sliddered twisted his 
 foot fell prone over a strong-smelling heap of empty 
 oyster-shells which lay before the tavern. Bah ! why must 
 they fling out the oyster-shells after a supper ? it was 
 too hot to eat oysters there must have been a supper 
 last night . " Sainte Vierge Mere de Dieu ! Ah ! " 
 
 Philip fell upon hirn. Once twice thrice he plunged 
 his rapier through the ivory-satin doublet. 
 
 Weakly D'Espinay twisted himself round to face his 
 murderer. " Vous avez tort, monseigneur, e"pargnez 
 moi ! " he gasped. 
 
 For answer Philip plunged his rapier through his heart, 
 drew it out, and plunged it in again mercilessly. 
 
 " Mourir pour ma belle, 
 Tra-la " 
 
 The blood gushed out of D'Espinay 's mouth, and he 
 lay still.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 HOME 
 
 " We are the masters of the days that were. 
 We have lived, we have loved, we have suffered." 
 
 W. E. HENLEY. 
 
 A SHIP rode at anchor on the river Thames beyond 
 Gravesend. The fields stretching down to the 
 banks were whitened by the daisies and the tall 
 cow-parsley, and touched with gold by the buttercups. 
 Such a peace lay over the country, such a fragrancy of 
 Spring. The birds flitted through the air, twittering 
 sharply, and ever and anon came a lazy, ponderous flap- 
 ping as a gull, returning from some inland quest, winged 
 its way back to the sea. The water lapped against the 
 ship's sides indolently, though often the passing of another 
 vessel made the anchored ship to rock, and strain rest- 
 lessly at the powerful cable which held her quiescent, and 
 then for a time the water eddied and swirled as though 
 boisterously inviting the ship to follow the stream out to 
 the sea once more. 
 
 At the ship's stern there fluttered in the light breeze 
 a royal ensign of sky blue with a lion rampant em- 
 blazoned, an unknown flag which mightily puzzled the 
 mariners on the passing ships. However, the merchant- 
 men, seeing that the stranger also flew the colours of the 
 Dutch Republic at her masthead, gave the accustomed 
 salute of courtesy and passed on, wondering what the sky 
 blue ensign could be. 
 
 On the deck stood the tall, black-robed figure of an 
 ageing woman ; a woman whose auburn hair was thickly 
 streaked with white, and whose face was lined with the 
 ineffaceable imprint of the touch of sorrow ; yet despite 
 
 403
 
 404 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the pathos of the face, the brave set of the firm lips and 
 the fearless gaze of the brown eyes told of an undaunted 
 spirit. There was, too, an indomitable, if unconscious, 
 pride in the poise of the head. Though she waited there, 
 a solitary, patient figure, there was something in her whole 
 attitude which said : " I, Elizabeth Stuart, cannot be 
 brought under fortune, save by owning misfortune. What- 
 e'er befalls, I am ready ! No one can humble me, though 
 they may insult me." 
 
 Hour after hour she waited there, her great brown eyes 
 fixed on the shore. Though no one welcomed her, yet 
 she saw England again, England which she had left nearly 
 fifty years ago, when youth and fortune smiled ! It had 
 been Spring then, too, she remembered, but a spring of 
 wild rains, and angry tempests. She had been driven 
 back to the coast, and men had said it was of evil augury 
 for a bride to be thus flung back to her home, but the 
 cannon had boomed salutes as she sailed away, and the 
 populace had thundered a grand farewell to the Pearl of 
 England. And now it was Spring again, Spring and 
 England, and all the world was unchanged, was young, only 
 she was old and sad, and an unwelcome guest it seemed. 
 
 At Delftshaven a messenger from King Charles II. had 
 met her, and had bidden her relinquish her voyage to 
 England ; but she had thrown back her head with her old, 
 proud gesture, and had cried out : " My nephew cannot 
 forbid me to go home ! " Home ! was England her home 
 after all ? She, the wanderer she, the exile had she a 
 home ? And yet unfailingly she belonged to the land ; 
 the long years had robbed her of joy and of splendour, of 
 love and of honour, but no one could take from her her 
 right to England. She had raged for a moment when 
 King Charles' envoy had delivered the ungracious mes- 
 sage. How dared he use her thus ? When he had been 
 a homeless exile, a penniless King in a foreign land, had 
 she not welcomed him as though he had been doubly 
 crowned ? Had she not told Amalia of Orange, when this 
 lady had asked why she had bent in so deep an obeisance 
 before her own kinsman : " He is twice a King, because
 
 HOME 405 
 
 he is crowned with misfortune ! " To her the brown-faced 
 youth of evil life, threadbare in garment, a little thread- 
 bare in honour, was no less the heir of that kingship by 
 divine right, the very name of which the world deemed 
 to have perished with King Charles I. beneath the 
 traitor's axe. 
 
 She could never have believed that her nephew could 
 have ignored her thus. She had sent a frigate on before 
 her with a messenger, to inform his Majesty of her arrival, 
 and she had bidden the Dutch captain to anchor her ship. 
 She would give King Charles time to prepare a fitting 
 reception, and if he did not heed her, at least, she would 
 sail up the river at night-time. No one should see her 
 land, ungreeted and unhonoured ! 
 
 " It is a good sailing breeze, is it, Mijnheer ? You would 
 not waste it ? Why should there not be a breeze to-night, 
 when I wish to sail ? We will take our chance, Mijnheer." 
 Ah ! Elizabeth Stuart, you are, " as ever of your wild 
 humour " to be hopeful, even yet, in spite of the heavy 
 years ! 
 
 " Madam, I pray you rest awhile ; there comes no 
 messenger from the King ; do not watch longer," said a 
 voice near her. 
 
 " It is not altogether for a messenger that I wait, 
 Craven," she said ; " but my heart is very full when I look 
 on England again. Let me be ; I am an old woman, but 
 I have come home at last ! " 
 
 He took her hand, so white against the brown wood of 
 the bulwark where it lay. Very gently he raised it to 
 his lips. " I knew not that you had thus hungered for 
 the homeland, madam," he said. 
 
 " Nay," she answered, " I knew it not myself. I am 
 no harbourer of useless thoughts." 
 
 They fell a-talking of other things of how Princess 
 Elizabeth was happy in her Protestant Abbey of Her- 
 worden, of Princess Sophie married in Hanover, of Prin- 
 cess Louise Hollandine, Abbess of Maubuisson. 
 
 " Craven, I have long ceased raging," the Queen said ; 
 " but how strange a destiny it is that two of my children
 
 406 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 should have fallen away from their father's faith ! Edward 
 and Louise ! and yet I have no bitterness against them 
 now. God forgive me ! there is but one whom I could 
 never pardon even now I cannot." 
 
 Craven nodded. " Yet Prince Philip fought bravely 
 enough before he fell at Rethel," he said. 
 
 The Queen turned away, her eyes had grown hard, and 
 she gazed at the smiling country joylessly now. She had 
 never seen Philip since that day when they had come and 
 told her of how he had killed D'Espinay. She had no 
 mercy in her heart for one capable of so cowardly a crime. 
 When Princess Elizabeth had urged that D'Espinay had 
 maddened Philip by his insolent ways, she had answered 
 that there was no palliation for so dastardly a crime. 
 " If he had crept alone into his house and murdered him, 
 'twould have been better," she had said ; " but three armed 
 men to kill one unarmed man ! It is a crime against 
 honour and courage ! " Steadily she had refused to see 
 Philip, refused to hear his name, and when Princess 
 Elizabeth had unwisely reopened the subject, praying 
 her to pardon Philip, she had turned on her with such 
 a passion of anger that the learned maiden, in high dis- 
 pleasure, had betaken herself to her aunt in Berlin, and 
 had never more darkened the doors of the house on 
 the Lange Voorhout. Louise Hollandine had wept for 
 D'Espinay for nigh upon a week, and had then forgotten 
 him in her clandestine practice of the Catholic faith, in 
 her painting, and in fancies for a score of other gallants. 
 After some years she had fled from her mother's house 
 with such secrecy that the busy tongues at the Hague 
 had made her the target for their poisoned whispers. 
 The Princess Louise Hollandine had been obliged to dis- 
 appear in order to hide her condition, it was said. What 
 a pity that the fardingale was no longer the mode ! 
 However, this delicate saying was unfounded this time, 
 although Louise Hollandine needed the fardingale some 
 thirteen times in after years, but perhaps her nun's robe, 
 and the seclusion of the Abbey of Maubuisson hid her as 
 effectually as a fardingale.
 
 HOME 407 
 
 Sophie, too, had left her mother very soon. She betook 
 herself to Heidelberg, where Karlutz, reinstated since the 
 treaty of Westphalia in 1648, held his Court; a pretty 
 unpleasant Court too ; for Karlutz spent his time in quar- 
 reling with his fierce-tempered wife, Charlotte of Hesse 
 Cassel, and in a very prolific love affair with her lady-in- 
 waiting, Louise von Degenfeld. 
 
 Henrietta, fair and fragile, had at last married Siegmund 
 of Rakoczy, the second son of that George Rakoczy who, 
 on the death of Bethlem Gabor, had been elected Prince 
 of Transylvania. It had been an arranged marriage, and 
 Siegmund had never even seen his bride before she arrived 
 in Sarospatak, but he conceived so ardent a devotion for 
 her that when, some five months after their marriage, she 
 died of fever, he fell sick and within a year followed her 
 to the grave. 
 
 Thus the Queen had remained alone at the Hague, 
 bitterly poor and deeply in debt. She had endured the 
 ignominy of being forced to beseech the rebel English Par- 
 liament to grant her her rightful apanage as a princess of 
 England. " Necessity hath no law," she had said grimly. 
 Penury had caused her to accept a much smaller sum 
 than was her due, and even this she had owed to the in- 
 fluence of the Puritans, who remembered that she had 
 ever been styled " God's own handmaiden ! " Perhaps this 
 truckling to traitors and rebels had been the most bitter 
 of all the bitternesses that she had known ; but Karlutz 
 would not help her, Craven's purse was well-nigh ex- 
 hausted ; she had " neither bread, nor flask, nor candle," 
 as she wrote to Craven once, when this faithful friend 
 had journeyed into England to fight for his rightful for- 
 tune, which the Parliamentarians were threatening to 
 confiscate, Craven being a " malignant and a friend of the 
 proscribed family of the deceased traitor to his country, 
 Charles Stuart." 
 
 If it had not been for the generous help of her niece 
 Mary of Orange, the Queen would have been in the direst 
 straits ; as it was, she had but few horses in her stables 
 nowadays, the house on the Lange Voorhout was miser-
 
 408 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 ably dingy and threadbare, her servants were reduced in 
 number, and even these few were ill paid often not paid 
 at all. Princess Mary did all she could, but there were 
 other claims upon her ; to her brother, King Charles, to 
 Prince James, and to little Prince Henry she was obliged 
 to send what she could spare. Her mother and her sister 
 Henriette were in Paris in such poverty that they often 
 had no fire to warm them. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart was very lonely. Rupert would visit 
 her when he could ; but he was a penniless wanderer and 
 could give her little help. Maurice, brave and gentle, 
 Rupert's shadow, Rupert's faithful follower, had been 
 wrecked when sailing for the West Indies. Rumours 
 had constantly been circulated that he had not perished 
 after all ; he was a slave at Algiers ; he was held prisoner ; 
 he had been seen in Portugal. Elizabeth Stuart set her- 
 self to wait ; he would come back some day, her little 
 Maurice, to whom she had given the soldier's name long 
 ago at gloomy Clistrin. 
 
 Karlutz had played an unhandsome role during the 
 late years. Never really in sympathy with his mother, 
 he had roused her to wrath and scorn by the part he had 
 played in England during the rebellion, for he had sided 
 with the Parliament, had even been suspected of a plot 
 to dethrone his unhappy uncle, Charles I., and, as the 
 Roundheads' candidate, to reign as " Puritan King of free 
 England." During the twelve years of the Commonwealth 
 he had given nothing to aid his unfortunate cousins, and 
 had grudged each thaler he had been forced to send his 
 mother. Harsh words had been written on both sides. 
 Elizabeth Stuart had drained the dregs of life's bitter- 
 ness ; she had learned to be ashamed of those she loved. 
 
 If it had not been for Craven she would have been 
 utterly lonely ; but " the little man " came to the Hague 
 constantly, and his quiet, unselfish devotion was her one 
 refuge. Sometimes his gentle homage reminded her of 
 Christel's in the fan.' days at Heidelberg long ago 
 long ago ! Christel was dead now. In truth he went out 
 of her life before the battle of the White Mountain, yet
 
 HOME 409 
 
 she had grieved again when she heard he had passed away 
 peacefully at Bernburg ; it had seemed to her that with 
 his death her own past died. 
 
 Much, too, had changed at the Hague. After Frederik 
 Hendrik's death the Princess Amalia had continued to 
 reside at the Binnenhof, comfortable, commonplace, dull. 
 Even the short drama of her son, William II. 's life had 
 not seemed to disturb her. Elizabeth Stuart had sympa- 
 thised warmly with the impetuous youth's ambition, 
 albeit she could not openly side with him, being as she 
 was under great obligations for the benefits bestowed upon 
 her and hers by the States-General during thirty-five 
 years ; yet she had understood his haughty anger that one 
 of his House should be obliged to refer all things to their 
 High Mightinesses understood that he wished to reign as 
 hereditary Stadthouder ! Then came his untimely death, 
 and shortly afterwards Princess Mary had given birth to 
 that frail, sickly infant, William III. of Orange, who 
 none had deemed could be reared to manhood. Little did 
 any one think that the ailing child was destined to rule 
 England and Holland with an iron rule ! 
 
 Duller days than ever had fallen on the Hague, and the 
 Queen smiled when she recalled poor D'Espinay's saying 
 that it was dull " a mourir jeune ! " The tedium had been 
 interrupted by the festivities celebrating the Restoration 
 of Charles II. There had been banquets in the Binnenhof 
 once more, merrymakings and rejoicings, and Elizabeth 
 Stuart had seen her nephew, an acknowledged King, sail 
 away from Scheveningen to claim his own in England. 
 
 " Come soon, dear aunt ; I will make a ragout of the 
 Puritans for your first supper at Whitehall ! " he had 
 whispered gaily as he bade her farewell. After a few 
 weeks Princess Mary had also sailed for England, and the 
 dulness of the Hague had weighed like lead on the Queen's 
 spirit. There had come the news of poor young Henry, 
 Duke of Gloucester's death ; and three months later the 
 Queen had heard that Princess Mary of Orange had also 
 taken the smallpox and was like to die. Elizabeth Stuart 
 would have sailed then and there for England, had she had
 
 410 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the money, but, as usual, she was penniless. The small- 
 pox is one of Death's swiftest messengers, and in a few 
 days the Queen had heard that Princess Mary was dead. 
 
 And now the Hague became insufferable to Elizabeth 
 Stuart. She was too lonely, too weary ; and she had 
 decided to journey to England. She had pawned her 
 few remaining jewels, had paid her creditors what she 
 could, and had promised them to return out of England 
 with gold enough to satisfy their claims. She had granted 
 her chief creditors an audience it had taken place in the 
 courtyard at the back of the house on the Lange Voorhout 
 for she did not wish them to see how threadbare and 
 frayed were her chairs and hangings ; here she had thanked 
 the honest tradesmen for their generous forbearance, and 
 they had withdrawn from her presence, feeling as though 
 they were in her debt, not she in theirs ! 
 
 With high hopes she had set out, accompanied by 
 Craven. At the outset her buoyancy had been dashed 
 by Charles' messenger at Delftshaven, but she had sailed 
 joyously nevertheless, believing, in spite of experience, that 
 all would be well. 
 
 And now she stood on the ship's deck talking with Craven, 
 but watching the coast for some message of welcome, ex- 
 pecting to see a Royal barge skimming over the water. 
 
 The twilight fell ; she could hear the birds chanting 
 their evensong in a copse near the river-banks. " There 
 is no messenger from the King, Craven," she said, and 
 her voice was unnaturally steady, steady with effort. " It 
 is of no consequence ! Tell the captain to weigh anchor, 
 thus we shall land unnoticed." 
 
 " It will be much more restful for your Majesty than 
 the noise of a state reception," said Craven, without 
 looking at her. 
 
 " I vow 'tis mighty thoughtful of my nephew," she 
 answered ; "he doubtless knew that I should prefer to 
 arrive quietly." 
 
 Craven bent and kissed her hand, and in the half-light 
 she did not see that his eyes were full of tears.
 
 HOME 411 
 
 The Queen of Bohemia was installed in my Lord of 
 Craven's house, a fine enough mansion, with lofty rooms 
 and a large garden where the last lilacs were still in bloom 
 when her Majesty arrived. The " little man " had bought 
 Combe Abbey many years ago from the impoverished 
 Harringtons, and he had ordered many things from 
 thence to be brought up to London to furnish the apart- 
 ments which he had placed at the Queen's disposal, thus 
 she found in Craven House chairs and mirrors, and 
 pictures, which she had known in the days of her 
 childhood at Combe. 
 
 Two mornings after her arrival she and Craven were 
 together in the " great parlour " overlooking the garden. 
 The latticed windows stood wide open. The Queen was 
 sitting in a tall, walnut-wood chair which she remembered 
 to have been Lady Harrington's. A gentle breeze stirred 
 the crimson silken curtains which bordered the deep 
 embrasure of the windows, and the scent of the lilacs 
 was wafted in. It was very still in the room, for that 
 quiet part of London near Drury Lane, though it was 
 beginning to be the mode, was still but sparsely built 
 over, and each handsome mansion owned a large garden. 
 
 The whole preceding day Elizabeth Stuart had 
 " rested." In reality she had waited for a visit from 
 the King; in reality both she and Craven had listened 
 to each footfall in the corridor, hoping that it might be 
 that of a lackey hastening to announce his Majesty or 
 some envoy from him. But the night had fallen, and 
 still Charles had not sent a greeting to his kinswoman. 
 Craven had prayed her Majesty permit him go to White- 
 hall to wait upon the King, but she had answered that 
 her nephew was surely giving her time to recover from 
 the fatigues of travel ; he would come to her in a few days. 
 
 On her arrival at Craven House Prince Rupert had 
 greeted his mother right lovingly, albeit his quiet, stern 
 manner always made him appear cold. His chemical 
 experiments occupied him more than ever nowadays 
 and he told her Majesty that she must not account him 
 churlish if he were not constantly at her side ; he had
 
 412 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 much business to transact with the ordering of the fleet, 
 which often kept him away from London. 
 
 " Oh ! son of mine," she said, " think you that I would 
 have you under my wing ? The old hen hath hatched 
 out her brood, Rupert ; and 'tis but a foolish old hen 
 who raises a cackle after a full-grown young cock as if 
 he were a chick ! No, leave that I understand you, son, 
 leave that, and tell me of this new way of graving which 
 you are so busy about." 
 
 He told her of the new mezzo tinto which had been 
 discovered by an artillery captain in the Netherlands, 
 and how 'twould be a perfect way of reproducing even 
 the most delicate miniatures. 
 
 Rupert's presence had lightened the strain of waiting 
 for a messenger from King Charles, which both she and 
 Craven had found irksome enough, though, as was her 
 custom, the Queen crushed disagreeable trifles by ignoring 
 them, as she was wont to say. 
 
 But this morning, as she and Craven sat together in 
 the " great parlour," there was no Prince Rupert to divert 
 their attention, for he had ridden away the preceding 
 evening to Chatham. For some time they sat in silence. 
 
 " Craven, my friend," she cried suddenly, " let us have 
 a jaunt to-day. I'll don my largest velvet mask ; you can 
 be masked too, and we'll go to Mulberry Gardens, or 
 shall we find seats in some playhouse ? " 
 
 Craven looked perplexed. " Punch's playhouse admits 
 no one who is masked and the cockpit your Majesty, 
 you could not go there like a stranger ; 'tis very like the 
 
 King and the whole Court will be there " 
 
 " Why not the Duke's Theatre ? I have heard 'tis 
 
 mighty fine," she said. 
 
 " It was years ago " he began, then hesitated ; he did 
 
 not want to remind her how long it was since she had 
 
 seen London. " It hath grown a trifle er dusty," he 
 
 finished lamely. 
 
 " So have I," she answered, laughing, As she spoke 
 
 hurried footsteps were heard in the corridor, and a lackey 
 
 came in.
 
 HOME 413 
 
 " His Majesty the King has just entered the courtyard, 
 my lord," he said. 
 
 " I will receive his Majesty here," the Queen said coldly. 
 Craven hurried away to meet the King at the house door. 
 
 King Charles came quickly into the " great parlour." 
 He wore no cloak. His light-blue satin doublet fitted 
 closely to his slight, wiry figure, a collar of fine white lace 
 showed up the olive hue of his thin face, with the harsh, 
 little, black moustache brushed away from his well-cut, 
 melancholy mouth. His large brown eyes were very like 
 Elizabeth Stuart's. He wore his own hair long and curled. 
 
 The Queen curtsied deeply; then, as he stood a moment 
 in the doorway, she came towards him with outstretched 
 hands. 
 
 " Good greeting to your Majesty," she said pleasantly. 
 
 A quick smile of relief passed over Charles' swarthy face. 
 " God's 'ounds ! I am right glad to see you, my merry 
 lady ! " he cried. " I have been a-walking to Charing to 
 look at my new Barbary mare, and I ventured to come 
 see if your Majesty had arrived." 
 
 " My Majesty arrived two days since very secretly, 
 nephew," she said lightly ; " and my Majesty was well 
 pleased that your Majesty let me come home so quietly ! " 
 
 " I believe that my Majesty is a scurvy knave," he 
 answered, smiling ; " but I've just had proof again that my 
 Majesty's dear aunt is, as ever, a right witty lady ! " He 
 led her towards the window-seat, then paused. 
 
 " There is a pack of silly fools who call themselves my 
 dear friends ; they wait without to be presented to your 
 Majesty. They are all a-panting from our walk ! " he 
 added in a whisper. 
 
 She laughed. " Nephew Charles, an you walk at a 
 run, as you used to do, I forgive the poor gentlemen," 
 she said. 
 
 " They like it ah ! they affect it greatly run after 
 me since I am King ! " he said bitterly. " I walked 
 alone before ; but 'tis good for the health, sweet aunt, 
 whether you are followed by a pack of panting peers, or 
 walk alone 'tis always good for the health." This last
 
 414 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 was spoken gravely, for Charles was always serious when 
 he talked of his health. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart smiled. " Bring in the pack of fools, 
 nephew," she said. 
 
 The Bang went to the door : " Her Majesty will receive 
 you, gentlemen," he called. 
 
 About half-a-dozen gallants entered. 
 
 " Which of 'em hath not the honour to be known to 
 your Majesty ? " the King said. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart scanned the gentlemen. " I need no 
 one to present the Duke of Buckingham to me," she said 
 graciously, holding out her hand. " Alas ! sir, changed 
 days since you sojourned in Holland ! " 
 
 "Ah ! madam, 'tis very true," George Villiers answered 
 gloomily. 
 
 " He hath long forgotten his love for my sister of 
 Orange, sweet aunt ! " the King said mockingly. " Ask 
 him how he fared in France ask him how sped his 
 wooing of Henriette." 
 
 Buckingham flushed angrily. His mad passion for 
 Princess Henriette had disturbed Monsieur le Due 
 d'Orleans' recent wedding festivities, and Buckingham 
 had been summarily dismissed. He knew that the 
 Court at Whitehall had made merry over his discom- 
 fiture, that my Lady Castlemaine never missed an 
 opportunity of uttering a coarse gibe at his expense, 
 that the King vastly enjoyed the pleasantry. 
 
 The Queen turned to the other gentlemen. " I think 
 I know your face, sir ! " she said to a slight, fair-haired 
 man. " No ? yet you are so like that you must be a 
 kinsman of that poor Kinnoul who was so fine an archer ? 
 We had many a good hour's shooting at the targets 
 together with my Lord of Montrose years ago at Rhenen." 
 
 " He was my uncle, your Majesty ; he died of fever at 
 Orkney when he was raising troops for his Majesty of 
 blessed memory," the young man answered. 
 
 " At Rhenen he often spoke of his young brother, 
 George Hay ; was he your father ? " 
 
 " Yes, madam."
 
 HOME 415 
 
 " Does he live still ? " she asked. 
 
 " Madam, 'tis thought that he died of starvation. He 
 followed my Lord of Montrose after Corbiesdale ; they 
 wandered for days in the hills, and my father fainted 
 for hunger. My Lord of Montrose was forced to leave 
 him, and he was never heard of more." 
 
 " And you are my Lord of Kinnoul now ? " she said. 
 " Ah ! sir, forgive me, but I am like a ghost of the 
 past ; I do not know the world of to-day," she added a 
 little sadly. 
 
 " You soon will, aunt ! " cried the King, anxious to 
 turn the talk to some gayer theme. " See, here is Sir 
 Charles Sedley, a poet with a monstrous pretty daughter ; 
 and Sir Anthony Ashley oh ! I forgot my Lord 
 Ashley ! I've just baked him from a baronet to a 
 peer ; 'odds truth ! but I had to bake him anew, for 
 he smelled musty of stale, sham Puritanism ! " 
 
 "I am as crisp now for your Majesty's service as I 
 was flabby in the service of the rebels," answered Ashley 
 coolly. 
 
 " Tut ! man, you have the finest practice of self-service 
 I have ever met," said the King, lolling lazily in the 
 cushioned window-seat. " Will your Majesty do me the 
 honour to come to the Cockpit this afternoon and see a 
 comedy ? " 
 
 " Right willingly, nephew," the Queen cried. " Craven 
 here was saying this very morning that I could not go." 
 
 " That was before his Majesty's visit," Craven said, 
 casting Charles a resentful look. 
 
 " Gad's 'ooks ! Craven, I love thee ! Thou art an 
 honest fool ! " said the King, clapping the " little man " 
 on the shoulder. 
 
 That afternoon, towards three of the clock, the King's 
 own carosse with the four dappled Flanders mares was 
 seen driving through the ill-paved streets to the Cockpit. 
 The streets were thronged with ponderous vehicles, which 
 Craven told the Queen were hackney-coaches, and could 
 be hired by any person who could pay their price. 
 Before the theatre was a veritable army of serving-men
 
 416 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 struggling and fighting, and dozens of orange-girls yelling 
 their wares in loud tones. At the door of the theatre 
 her Majesty found the King awaiting her, surrounded by 
 a number of gentlemen. His Majesty led her to the 
 centre gallery, and stood leaning over her chair and 
 pointing out the various people of interest among the 
 audience. 
 
 " There is Tom Killigrew next to Ashley ; to the left 
 is Lauderdale ; and there is Roscommon. There stands 
 my Lord of Worcester ! " he said. " No, you are looking 
 at old Ormond a mighty dullard, but good ; only he 
 wearies me with his stately ways, you know, sweet aunt. 
 But look at Worcester ; ah ! we owe him much so 
 much, that 'tis best to forget it ! " 
 
 The Queen saw an extremely tall old man, with a 
 small pointed beard and brushed-up moustache in the 
 mode of King Charles I., with melancholy, weary brown 
 eyes under highly-arched, pencilled eyebrows, with an 
 enormous hooked nose. 
 
 " Yes, that is Worcester a nose like a bird's beak, 
 you say, dear Majesty ? Yes, but he likes it ; for on 
 some old fellow's tomb, some ancestor of three hun- 
 dred years ago, you may see a monster hook sticking 
 up so they say. Where is it ? Oh ! Westminster 
 Abbey, or some such place I never know these things ; 
 but I know old Worcester would give half his face 
 that's his nose, sweet aunt, ain't it ? to have me see 
 some contrivance he's builded to make wheels run by 
 steam. I can't be plagued to see the thing ; but I'll 
 make old Worcester a duke some day, when I've leisure 
 he's got my father's letter and a patent making him 
 a duke in his pocket now ! 'Odds life, they all have 
 claims," he added gloomily, " all of 'em, all of 'em ! " 
 He fell to stroking the silky-haired spaniel which he 
 held under his arm. " They'd need three kings and six 
 treasuries to content 'em all," he muttered, and fell into 
 a moody silence. 
 
 In the pit the serving- men squabbled and fought : 
 baronets' lackeys fighting knights' major-domos, earls'
 
 HOME 417 
 
 outriders jostling barons' henchmen. A ceaseless hum- 
 ming filled the air ; loud voices screamed broad pleasan- 
 tries from gallery to gallery, and the orange-girls plied 
 their trade with noisy effrontery among the gallants who 
 stood about. 
 
 Opposite the Queen was a row of empty chairs, towards 
 which she noticed Charles constantly glanced. Now, 
 with a deal of calling out and ostentatious ado, a tall, 
 thin woman with a pale face, light-brown hair, and large, 
 limpid hazel eyes, was led to one of these chairs by a 
 much-bedizened gentleman, whom the Queen recognised 
 as my Lord Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 " Who is that with the Duke methinks I know her 
 face, nephew ? " she said ; but the King had gone. She 
 saw him threading his way along the gallery towards 
 the lady. 
 
 For a moment the Queen sat there alone among that 
 gay assemblage. She saw that all the gentlemen who 
 attended the King had followed him, and were crowding 
 round the pale-faced woman. 
 
 " I crave your Majesty's pardon, I was sending a 
 messenger to bring my carosse to drive your Majesty 
 home," said Craven's voice at her elbow. 
 
 " Why so, little man ? " she asked wonderingly. 
 
 " Lady Castlemaine had refused to come to the Cockpit 
 this day as I heard. But she's changed her caprice, 
 and there might be a desperate pother if she wished the 
 King to drive her in his carosse to supper at Whitehall 
 after the play," he answered ; "so I have sent for your 
 Majesty's own carosse 'twill be there an you need it." 
 
 " Craven, you are mighty good to an old woman," she 
 said, and there flashed across her lips and eyes that smile 
 which always made her look young again. 
 
 " I am there to serve you," he answered in a low voice. 
 
 " So that is my new Lady Castlemaine," the Queen said 
 after a pause. " Yes, I saw her once in Holland some 
 years back. She looks mild enough, but they do say 
 that not even an old barber woman of Drury Lane can 
 outstrip her in rough words ! " 
 
 2 D
 
 418 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 Silence fell between them, and they watched the gay, 
 restless scene in the playhouse the inattentive, whisper- 
 ing audience ; the gallants on the stage itself, where their 
 crowding almost hid the actors; the actors a motley 
 band, and the " lady " who played the role of a forsaken 
 damsel a long, lanky figure, whose angular movements, 
 strides, and hoarse voice proclaimed her to be a " boy " of 
 something over fifty years. The performances at the 
 Cockpit were old-fashioned and badly played, though the 
 audience still vastly preferred the antics of the boy 
 " actresses " to the new mode of women playing the female 
 roles, as was to be seen at some of the other London 
 playhouses. 
 
 The Queen's eyes wandered to my Lady Castlemaine 
 and the King. He was lolling lazily beside her, his 
 little spaniel in his arms, and his sad brown eyes gazing 
 absently into the playhouse, while my lady poured forth 
 a torrent of words at him. 
 
 "My nephew does not seem to be enjoying himself 
 too much ! " the Queen said to Craven. 
 
 " Nay," he answered, " Mistress Barbara Palmer's I 
 implore her pardon my Lady Castlemaine's service is 
 no light task ! But 'tis said his Majesty looked over- 
 long at little Mistress Frances, Captain Walter Stewart's 
 daughter, the other day, and that since then Castlemaine 
 is fiercer than ever." 
 
 The Queen sighed. " My nephew is a prey to these 
 women," she said. 
 
 " But, madam, 'twill be different when the Portuguese 
 Princess comes and takes her place as Queen," Craven 
 answered. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart shook her head. " Little man, you 
 judge the world by your own good heart and honest 
 habits ! But look ! " she added, " why, there is Nan Hyde, 
 my royal niece of York ! At the playhouse so soon after 
 her baby boy's death ! Ah ! she's as hard as a pebble, 
 I always thought it when she was lady-in-waiting to my 
 poor niece of Orange at the Hague." She looked across 
 at the Duchess of York, fair, placid, and commonplace.
 
 HOME 419 
 
 Suddenly, amidst this world, which was her world, and 
 yet utterly strange to her, a wave of unwonted sadness 
 swept over Elizabeth Stuart. Why had she left Holland, 
 she asked herself? There she knew all the polite world, 
 knew the lives, the characters of the men and women ; 
 the older ones had seen her as a young woman, the younger 
 men and ladies she had known when they were children. 
 Now it seemed to her that she had left a home ; there 
 she had played a part, whereas here she was an onlooker, 
 here she had no place. At that moment she knew the 
 bitterness of loneliness in a crowd, that loneliness which 
 is nearly fear almost panic. And now she became aware 
 that thousands of eyes scrutinised her curiously coldly. 
 Womanlike she was seized with a terror lest her gown 
 was old-fashioned absurd. She gripped the arms of her 
 chair convulsively, told herself that she was a fool an 
 old fool. She saw my Lady Castlemaine looking at her, 
 saw her laugh ; Nan Hyde, too, whispered to a lady seated 
 next her, and they both laughed. 
 
 The first act of the comedy came to an end, and a 
 greater hubbub than ever arose. Behind her she heard 
 a voice say : " Before the Commonwealth ? Lord love ye, 
 before the late king reigned ! Why ! time of old King 
 James ! " She turned her head abruptly ; three gallants 
 were wending their way along the gallery. She heard 
 them laughing. 
 
 The King came across to her. His face was drawn 
 with weariness ; an ugly sneer twisted his lips when he 
 tried to smile at her. 
 
 " Will you grace my Palace of Whitehall at supper 
 to-night, sweet aunt ? " he said, " it would be mighty 
 pleasant." She read through his kindly intent, knew he 
 was in deadly fear of his mistress's wrath ; if she went to 
 Whitehall she would use the King's carosse, and Castle- 
 maine would have to follow in her own coach ; if she did 
 not go to Whitehall, the mistress, although she would 
 have had the King's carosse, would torment the King 
 because it would be said that the Queen of Bohemia 
 would not sup in my Lady of Castlemaine's company.
 
 420 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Nay, nephew Charles, I pray you hold me excused," 
 the Queen said. " I am still weary with travel ; would 
 your Majesty permit me to withdraw now ? My Lord of 
 Craven's coach awaits me. Nephew, I shall be right 
 willing to sup at Whitehall another evening you shall 
 choose the company, Charles you shall choose the 
 company." 
 
 My Lady of Castlemaine saw the King bow over the 
 Queen's hand, saw him kiss it twice almost like a lover, 
 before he led her along the gallery to the door. Lady 
 Castlemaine delivered herself of a coarse jest on the 
 subject of amours within the proscribed degrees of affinity, 
 and she was more than usual shrewish when Charles 
 returned to her. The King's whole attitude to Elizabeth 
 Stuart had been that of a man under the spell, not alone 
 of a woman's charm, but of her generous pride of race 
 and easy humorous knowledge of the world. 
 
 Some fortnight after the visit to the Cockpit, the 
 Queen and my Lord of Craven were together in the 
 " great parlour " at Craven House. Spring had hurried 
 onwards, and Summer reigned. The parlour windows 
 stood wide open, and a scent of roses and freshly mown 
 grass stole in. The clear air was full of the quick, soft 
 notes of swallows as they darted past, circled, soared, then 
 flashed away beyond the gardens and the labyrinth of 
 narrow streets between Craven House and the river. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuart leaned there in the straight-backed 
 walnut chair. Her strong white hands with the long 
 delicate fingers rested idly on the polished chair-arms, 
 and Craven noted that their delicacy had grown, and 
 that the blue veins showed on them more than ever. 
 He glanced at her face ; she looked a trifle weary, he 
 thought, but then it had seemed that King Charles could 
 not have enough of her Majesty's company. He had 
 carried her off to playhouse and opera, had prayed her 
 accompany him to see the royal stables at Charing, to 
 feed the ducks on the water in St. James's Park, had 
 insisted on her watching him playing tennis ; she had
 
 HOME 421 
 
 been here, there, and everywhere with him, until a pert 
 writer in one of the News Letters had written that : " My 
 Lady of C. hath a veritable rival in the Q. of B." Seeing 
 how the King's fancy went, the whole Court gave her 
 much honour, and my Lord Clarendon was heard to 
 declare that he had hopes of his Majesty learning to 
 enjoy decent company yet. 
 
 Despite all this homage Craven had seen a shadow on 
 Elizabeth Stuart's face. He knew she was troubled by 
 Karlutz's unchivalrous action in threatening to have her 
 few belongings seized, if she endeavoured to have them 
 removed from the Hague. The things were his, Karlutz 
 averred, and he would have them at Heidelberg. King 
 Charles had written his cousin a peremptory command, 
 and had presented the Queen with some twelve thousand 
 pounds wherewith to satisfy her Hague creditors' most 
 pressing demands. Things were going well at last for 
 her Majesty, yet Craven thought he saw a cloud on her 
 brow, and the love in his heart taught him to understand 
 that she felt herself to be old and out of place in this 
 new, gay world. 
 
 As she leaned there in her high-backed chair, listening 
 to the summer sounds in the garden, her thoughts were 
 busy with the past. The swallows' chirping song recalled 
 many scenes to her mind, scenes which only she on earth re- 
 membered, and herein is the inevitable loneliness of old age. 
 
 She was revisiting Heidelberg as it had been as it 
 had been it was all changed now. She was seeing 
 Prague again the Hradcany the Star Palace. She 
 remembered how she and Friedrich had stood together 
 looking from out the window of her withdrawing-room, 
 and that over the Stag Park the swallows had soared 
 uttering this same sharp, hurried song. Once more she 
 saw before her the grand view of Prague the mighty 
 sweep of the Moldau the long line of the monastery on 
 the Strahow Hill the grim squareness of the old mill on 
 the river. She passed her hand over her eyes. What 
 was Craven saying ? His voice sounded far off. She 
 called back her wandering attention.
 
 422 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " Oh ! my Queen, I cannot bear to see your eyes look 
 so sad ! " he was saying. " I know you are oppressed with 
 loneliness sometimes I know these struggles with the 
 Elector Karlutz are bitter to you. Queen of my life, let 
 me serve you let me have the right to protect you. 
 Forgive my presumption." 
 
 Once before he had prayed her this same prayer, but 
 she had laughingly told him " he had a gigue in his 
 head," and that he had best marry Princess Elizabeth. 
 
 " Ah ! Craven," she said gravely, " must the reward of 
 all your loving service of me be a cold word of denial ? 
 Friend, friend, why must you ask me this ? It could 
 be but a monstrous silly thing for June to mate with 
 November ! Because of your great love of me, you forget 
 that I am an old woman." She laid her hand on his 
 arm. " Nay, do not shake your head, friend, I am an old 
 woman, and you are young." 
 
 " Madam, madam ! " he broke in eagerly, " you could 
 never grow old to me ! I am no youth, but a grave man 
 past middle age. June and November ! Why, madam, 
 I am in the autumn of life too ! You can never grow 
 old to me because I love you." 
 
 " Yet I am old, Craven, and the world would jeer at 
 you," she answered ; " aye, and at me, too, did I become 
 your wife. The world has an ugly, clear vision, and an 
 ugly set of words wherewith to name things ! Yes, my 
 lord," she added, " drawing herself up haughtily, " let us 
 be unfortunate if God wills it, but ridiculous never ! " 
 
 " My Queen," he said humbly, " believe me, I but offer 
 you my poor protection and all the service of my life. 
 I would never offer you wifehood as to some hoyden girl, 
 madam you understand ? I would but kiss your finger- 
 tips the hem of your gown and think myself for this 
 prouder than any lover who may dare to ask and take all 
 that a woman hath to give." 
 
 She looked at him musingly. 
 
 " And yet," she said after a pause, " and yet the world 
 would count our marriage as a hideous thing." 
 
 " What need the world to know ? " he cried ; " yet if
 
 HOME 423 
 
 I had the right I could protect you against a hundred 
 importunities ; I could treat with the Elector only those 
 need know who dare molest you then I could shield 
 you. Oh ! my Queen, all the world knows how utterly 
 I love you " 
 
 " Would it give you such happiness ? " she interrupted. 
 " I would fain give you happiness, Craven, but it could be 
 no mating ; friend of mine, I am an old woman it could 
 be no mating." Her hand went up to her breast and 
 touched a little crystal jewel which lay there a little 
 jewel graven with the name "Elizabeth." 
 
 "There is a line of an old song which often rings in 
 my mind, madam, when I think of my love for you," 
 Craven said 
 
 " The heaven of heavens with heavenly power preserve thee, 
 Love but thyself, and give me leave to serve thee." 
 
 He hummed the melody softly. 
 
 The Queen started up and caught his arm almost 
 roughly. " Not that not that do not sing that ! " she 
 said, and to Craven's bewilderment he saw how she, who 
 had not quailed before the cruellest sorrows, seemed 
 broken and vanquished by the lilt of an old song. She 
 covered her face with her hands and wept helplessly. 
 
 The song had brought back to her, as in a vision, 
 a night of June June forty years ago. She stood once 
 more with Friedrich on the wide terrace at Heidelberg 
 she leaned against the parapet and looked down into the 
 silent valley, where the moon had magicked the river 
 Neckar to a silver pathway the rich fragrance of roses 
 was wafted to her, while from below, in the rosery, there 
 came a young, passionate voice singing that old love 
 song. 
 
 Ah God ! when life was young, and love was young 
 how good had been the days ! And now all was dead, 
 Friedrich and Christel and her own youth. The song 
 had come back to her like some ghostly echo of the 
 vanished years. Her yearning turned towards Holland, 
 too, again to Holland, where she had known the rapture
 
 424 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 of Christian's love she touched the little jewel on her 
 breast and wept afresh. 
 
 " What have I done ? Forgive me, I will never im- 
 portune you again ! It was insolent presumption, but I 
 only wish to serve you " he said. 
 
 " Craven, my friend," she answered, and once more the 
 witchery of her smile conquered both tears and old age, 
 and made her seem young again, " Craven, you brought 
 my youth back to me ; yon song was sung to me forty 
 years ago, when I was young, and I do but weep my lost 
 youth, as all must mourn, methinks, when they know life's 
 fairest gift is faded faded with the roses of my rosery 
 at Heidelberg, which they tell me Spinola's men trampled 
 down long since." 
 
 Craven looked at her questioningly. Suddenly he 
 realised the gulf of years which was betwixt him and his 
 beloved Queen, and the knowledge came to him that love 
 may conquer all foes save that relentless, silent combatant 
 Time. The years that have vanished no man can snatch 
 back, even if he give his soul he may not alter one line 
 of the song that has been sung. Thus the indestructible 
 past rises between old age and youth, a barrier which none 
 can break down. 
 
 Craven bent and kissed the Queen's hand reverently. 
 " I will never importune you more," he said gently. 
 
 " Nay ! " she answered, " I will grant you what you ask. 
 After all, 'tis but a few years that I have to give, but shall 
 I not reward you for so faithful a service ? If it would 
 make you happy to be bound to me by God's law, I will 
 right gladly be your wife, and we will go to Combe, and 
 live through the quiet days. Craven, you have given 
 me peace peace after so many storms." She laid her 
 hands on his shoulders, and drew him to her, looking 
 straight into his honest grey eyes which were a little 
 clouded with tears just then. "God bless you for all 
 you have been to me ! " she said. 
 
 Thus it fell out that Elizabeth Stuart, Queen of Bohemia, 
 gave her hand in marriage to my Lord of Craven, son of
 
 HOME 425 
 
 the draper merchant, Lord Mayor of London, and one of 
 the truest gentlemen that ever lived. 
 
 So she came back to Combe at last, and the long years 
 seemed, for a moment, to have rolled away, and she 
 dreamed herself a little maiden once more. All things 
 were unchanged, the tall trees of the avenue whispered 
 the same secrets beneath the breeze's kiss; they seemed 
 to be the same water-lilies on the moat swaying above 
 the water's lazy play ; the same sound of rooks cawing in 
 the trees ; the same peace brooding over the red -brick 
 house. She went to her " Isle of Constant Spring," 
 walked through the fields and the old farmstead which 
 she had called " my territories " fifty years ago. She even 
 found the same briar-bush before the old garden gate- 
 way, whence she had so often plucked wild roses to carry 
 to my Lady of Harrington, who, she remembered, had 
 once held a wild rose close to her fresh young cheek, and 
 had vowed laughing : " Your little Highness hath stolen 
 its bloom, methinks." 
 
 The house, too, was unchanged ; sometimes when she 
 passed down the broad, shallow steps of the old stairway 
 she almost glanced over her shoulder to see if she were 
 unobserved, as if she were going to lean her arms upon 
 the smooth banisters, and to slip down deliciously with 
 Phyllis naughty, laughing Phyllis sliding after her. 
 She occupied the same room where she had slept fifty years 
 ago ; she gazed out at the same quiet fields beyond the 
 sunk fence of the formal garden ; she heard the cuckoo 
 calling, and the doves' soft, monotonous song; the well- 
 remembered scent of the jasmin beneath her window-sill 
 came to her. 
 
 The only change was made by the things she had 
 brought with her out of her long years of exile, by the 
 pictures of Friedrich, and of the many brave men who 
 had fought for him. One picture there was before which 
 she often stood. This was Mierevelt's copy of his own 
 picture of Christian of Brunswick, of the mad Halber- 
 stiidter. King Friedrich had caused Mierevelt to paint all
 
 426 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 the great leaders who had served him, and the Halber- 
 stadter had been among them. 
 
 Sometimes in the delicious quiet of the great park 
 a sob rose in her throat. She would fain have given 
 of the amplitude of this peace, of this sweet calmness, 
 to Friedrich, to the poor broken-spirited man who had 
 written to her from a battlefield those sorrowful, humble 
 words : " If God would but give me a little quiet corner 
 of the world to live with thee and rest." 
 
 Peace had come to her, did those who had loved 
 her rest too ? " Christian, are you at peace ? Belove'd, 
 beloved ! " she whispered, and for an instant the potent 
 remembrance of her passion gave the old woman's face as 
 a mirage of the splendour of youth. 
 
 On Sunday mornings the Queen drove to that village 
 church at Brinklow where she had so often been as a 
 little maiden. Craven would have fitted up a private 
 chapel for her, but she loved the old-world simplicity of 
 the little Brinklow church, with its uneven floor sloping 
 uphill to the altar ; she loved to see the villagers in their 
 smocks, and the rosy-faced children. There was a home- 
 liness mingled with the poetry of the simple service which 
 spoke to her of her vanished youth. As she kneeled 
 there she realised that, hidden deep during the long years, 
 there had always been a homesick yearning for England, 
 for her own country. She told herself that she had paid 
 dearly for the love, the honours, the ambitions, which 
 had been hers, and now all things had failed her but she 
 had come home. And her heart awoke to a passion of 
 love for England, English trees, English grasses, green 
 and fresh as are no other swards on earth, the song of 
 English birds, for where else do they warble like that ? 
 the fragrancy of English lanes, the softness of the suave 
 English air. She wondered if it would be granted to her 
 to live through an English spring once more, to see the 
 pale primroses flung like a fragile carpet of delicious fresh- 
 ness over the earth beneath the trees, and then the blue 
 wild hyacinths oh ! to break off their thick, crisp stems, 
 and carry home a basketful
 
 HOME 427 
 
 She bent her head over her clasped hands, and the 
 villagers saw how her Majesty of Bohemia wept, and 
 thought she mourned her loved ones again, thought she 
 grieved for her lost kingdom, little knew that Elizabeth 
 Stuart wept the forfeited years of that birthright which 
 they, the humble ones, had never bartered, which they 
 did not even prize, perhaps, that birthright of home of 
 England. 
 
 Yet memory was pure of all bitterness to her now. 
 She was weary she was resting. The long day of her 
 strife was ended, the twilight was falling, and she rested 
 that she might sleep the sweeter when the night came. 
 
 A mighty storm raged over London. The wind tore 
 and shrieked and the rain fell in torrents. The narrow 
 streets were deserted ; it was not good to be abroad in 
 that cruel tempest. 
 
 In the great gallery at Whitehall King Charles and 
 his Court were assembled. The waxen candles in the 
 wall-sconces burnt low, and at the doors the lackeys 
 yawned and cursed the revelry which kept them thus on 
 duty till so far into the night. My Lady of Castlemaine's 
 little negro had fallen asleep beside one of the pillars, his 
 turban slanted across his brow ; one of his embroidered 
 slippers had fallen off and the tired little foot lay bare. 
 Pray heaven her ladyship does not see him 'ere he wakens 
 she hath a long pin in her corsage which she often 
 uses cruelly ; she hath an ivory fan which can raise weals 
 across a trembling black face. 
 
 There were many card tables set out in the gallery, 
 small ones where parties of three played gleek, and a long 
 table for lansquenet, where the King had taken the bank. 
 The gold lay in a shining heap beside him ; he had opened 
 the bank with a hundred pounds. This was a serious 
 business, and even my Lord Duke of Ormond was at this 
 card-play, but he moved away after he had won a goodly 
 sum. 
 
 " Stay, Ormond ! " cried the King, " prudence is but ugly 
 when a man hath won ! Stay, man, and take the bank ! "
 
 428 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 " I pray your Majesty to hold me excused. I am 
 weary and would go home," Ormond answered, bowing 
 deep. 
 
 " Off then ! you will slumber sound enough with those 
 well- won plaques beneath your pillow ! " the King said 
 good-naturedly. " I warrant my Lord of Eoscommon will 
 take the bank ! " 
 
 " I'd play with the devil himself, and hold the bank 
 against the minions of hell ! " cried Roscommon, who was 
 a little drunk. 
 
 " Oh ! my lord poet ; come and play gleek with me 
 and Ashley," called my Lady of Shrewsbury. " Here is 
 Tom Killigrew talking of late hours and how we should 
 all be abed ! " 
 
 Roscommon bent and whispered to her. 
 
 " Fie, my lord ! " she cried, " you bring the blush to 
 my cheek ! " 
 
 " God's 'ounds, I thought she'd unlearned blushing ! 
 Eh ? Barbara, my pretty tyrant ? " the King whispered 
 to Lady Castlemaine, who sat near him. 
 
 She did not answer, her eyes were fixed with an un- 
 mistakable look upon young Harry Jermyn, the hand- 
 some, fatuous fool whom, it was whispered, not even 
 Princess Mary of Orange dead now this eighteen months 
 not even the haughty Princess Mary had been able to 
 resist. The King's eyes followed my Lady Castlemaine's 
 glance. He shrugged his shoulders and sneered. 
 
 " There is an ancient dance called ' Cuckholds all,' " he 
 said, with aparent irrelevancy. She heard that and 
 turned on Charles in a fury, pouring out foul words at 
 him beneath her breath ; but he only laughed. 
 
 " Waller, gentle Waller, come and keep me company ! " 
 he called to a gaily attired gallant, who alone of that 
 whole assemblage seemed cool and collected. 
 
 " By heaven, man, you are the only sober soul who 
 diverts me ! " the King said, as Waller came up to the 
 lansquenet table. 
 
 "'Tis not my soul that is sober, sire, only my body 
 likes water better than sack ; but my soul is rapturously
 
 HOME 429 
 
 drunken when I look on my Lady of Castlemaine," 
 answered Waller. 
 
 She tapped him on the fingers with her fan. " I like 
 poets," she said, smiling delightedly, for no flattery was 
 too obvious for her. 
 
 " I prefer harlots ! " the King whispered to Killigrew, 
 who stood near. " Come, my most honoured lady, and 
 beguile my loneliness over yonder," he said with an 
 exaggeratedly low bow. 
 
 " Who plays ? Ladies ? My Lords ? I put down 
 three hundred pounds ! " cried Roscommon, slipping into 
 Charles' vacant chair at the head of the lansquenet table. 
 A babble of voices arose as the company gathered round. 
 
 " Put Buckhurst in a chair," said Sir Charles Sedley ; 
 " he's as drunk as my Lord of Lauderdale himself, but 
 he's sober enough to lose money." 
 
 The King and my Lady of Castlemaine wandered away 
 together to a broad, cushioned seat a little apart from the 
 gamblers. Charles beckoned Waller and Killigrew to 
 follow. My Lady of Castlemaine's humour at that moment 
 did not tempt his Majesty to converse alone with her. 
 
 " Give me a cup of sack, Tom," the King said to 
 Killigrew; "it grows late," he yawned. 
 
 Just then Lady Castlemaine espied the pathetic little 
 figure of the sleeping black boy. " Fetch me that lazy 
 nigger ! Fetch him to me, I say ! " she cried shrilly. 
 
 " Leave him be, Barbara ; 'tis past dawn, and he's weary, 
 poor monkey," the King said lazily. 
 
 " Fetch him to me Tom ! Waller ! God damn 
 him, how dare he sleep ? " she screamed. The little fellow 
 stirred, and a smile came over his dusky face ; he turned 
 in his sleep, and stretched himself. Lady Castlemaine 
 caught up a small silver hand-mirror which lay on a 
 table near her, and flung it full in the child's face. 
 
 " Well thrown, my lady ! " laughed Charles. The little 
 black boy sat up ; his turban had slipped off. 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " he moaned, holding his shaking hands over 
 his face. " Oh, don't ye beat me, lady ! " 
 
 " Fetch him to me you fools " she screamed again.
 
 430 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 The men did not move. The King was laughing 
 nervously. Tom Killigrew stood silent. "Poor little 
 devil ! " muttered Waller the poet. 
 
 Slowly the negro dragged himself towards Lady Castle- 
 maine ; a trickle of blood ran down his face from the cut 
 which the silver hand-mirror had made. He crouched 
 at her feet, holding up his small livid hands in supplication. 
 
 " Don't ye beat me, lady don't ye beat me!" he whined. 
 
 She took that long gold pin with the ruby head from 
 out the clustering laces at her bosom. " That will teach 
 you to sleep while you serve me ! " she said ; and plunged 
 the pin deep into the boy's arm. 
 
 He fell flat on his face and lay there moaning. 
 
 " Enough, Barbara ! " the King said sternly, and drew 
 the poor African to him kindly, stroking his thick crinkled 
 hair almost as gently as he was wont to stroke his spaniels. 
 The boy gazed up into his face with a rapture of gratitude 
 in his rolling eyes. 
 
 '' Here, nigger ! " Charles said, " 'tis nothing, little man ; 
 better a bleeding face than a bleeding heart ! " He gave 
 him his soft linen kerchief. " Wipe off the blood," he said. 
 
 The boy caught his hand and kissed it passionately, 
 then, crawling close to the King's foot, crouched there like 
 a tortured animal which has found protection at last. 
 
 " You'll leave him alone now, my lady ! " the King said, 
 and there was an accent in his voice which caused even 
 Castlemaine to fall silent. 
 
 The air was full of the scent of ambergris, and of sweet 
 essences, of laughter and soft whispered words ; the gold 
 clinked as Roscommon pushed it to a winner, or drew his 
 own gains from before some loser. Goblets of sack and 
 canary were handed about by sleepy lackeys. Without 
 the storm raged, and the wind, as though mad to enter 
 and attack the revellers, tore at the casements, then 
 baffled, hurried on moaning eerily. 
 
 " What is this that I hear, sire, of her Majesty of 
 Bohemia ? " asked Waller ; " 'tis said that since she came 
 hither from Combe last week, she hath lain sick unto 
 death at Leicester House."
 
 HOME 431 
 
 " Yes, man, I am right grieved for her ; 'tis her lungs, 
 I'm told a sudden illness," the King began. 
 
 " Why is she at Leicester House ? " broke in Lady 
 Castlemaine. " She's married to Craven or worse 
 why has she moved to another abode ? She was sump- 
 tuously enough lodged at Craven House, and 'tis waste of 
 good money, I vow, to have two houses ! " 
 
 " Madam, my aunt chooses to have an establishment of 
 her own," the King said haughtily. " She accepts my 
 Lord of Craven's hospitality in the country " 
 
 " Hospitality ! " sneered Lady Castlemaine. 
 
 " I would she had deigned to honour my poor Palace 
 of Whitehall. I offered her an apartment here, but she 
 was too ill to be removed from Leicester House," he said. 
 
 " La, sire, if you make Whitehall a refuge for the desti- 
 tute, there'll be no room for other people," retorted Lady 
 Castlemaine ; " but I warrant your Majesty only offered the 
 Queen a room to die in so that a daughter of England 
 should not die in a hired house." 
 
 " Barbara, Barbara, I ought to offer you a room in the 
 Tower ! " he answered gloomily. He lolled back on the 
 cushioned seat, and, calling his spaniel, which was slum- 
 bering peacefully, he lifted it to his breast and held it 
 there with a tenderness he never showed even to women. 
 
 Without the wind moaned restlessly. Sir Charles 
 Sedley, who had just taken his leave, re-entered the 
 gallery. He came up to the King. 
 
 " There is a messenger from my Lord of Craven, sire," 
 he said in a low voice, " it is old Master Grey, Craven's 
 secretary." 
 
 " God's body ! let him enter," the King cried. " I am 
 full anxious for news of my Lady of Bohemia ! " 
 
 Craven's secretary entered, a grave old man, and an 
 avowed Puritan ; but Charles, having known him well in 
 Holland, had given strict inj unctions he was to go un- 
 molested, for all his Puritanism. 
 
 " How now, master ? " the King called, as the old man 
 stood hesitating at the end of the gallery. " Come close ; 
 we are not a band of robbers who will set upon you ! You
 
 432 THE WINTER QUEEN 
 
 came with a message I trust my noble kinswoman 
 shudders not before this ugly storm ? " 
 
 " Nay, sire," the old man answered solemnly ; " her 
 Majesty of Bohemia is no more. She died an hour since 
 'at Leicester House, died sitting straight and brave in her 
 own great crimson chair." 
 
 The King made no reply for a moment. The news was 
 sudden and unexpected ; for though all knew it was not 
 well with Elizabeth Stuart, none had thought that Death 
 would come to her so soon. 
 
 The King rose from the cushioned seat where he had 
 lolled. He put his little spaniel down carefully, then 
 standing very straight, with a proud gesture he commanded 
 silence to the noisy group around the lansquenet table. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! " he said right gravely, " gentlemen, the 
 Queen of Bohemia is no more. God rest her strong, 
 courageous soul ! She hath been braver than many a 
 knight of old ; she hath been very unfortunate " his 
 voice grew husky " 'odds life, I grieve ! " he said, and 
 snatched up a goblet of sack which stood on the table 
 beside my Lady Castleinaine. " Gentlemen, I drink to a 
 brave, sweet soul ! " 
 
 Tears stood in the King's brown eyes, so like those 
 brown eyes just closed for ever at Leicester House, closed 
 in great peace after many tears ; yet, in spite of sorrows 
 passing the share of most on earth, eyes which had never 
 unlearned the courage of a smile. 
 
 Of a truth Elizabeth Stuart was a brave, sweet soul ! 
 God rest her well ! 
 
 Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON 6* Co. 
 Edinburgh &> London
 
 Coblenz 
 Hochst Frankfurt