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 MAURICE, 
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 
 
 AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE OF THE 
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 By MRS. COLQUHOUN. 
 
 TO 
 
 HIS MAJESTY THE KING OF SAXONY. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 T. C. NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 
 72, MORTIMER STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. 
 
 1844.
 
 J. BILLING, PRINTRR, WOKING SURBET-
 
 Lf 
 
 ^5- 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 TO HIS MAJESTY THE KING OF SAXONY. 
 
 iIRE, 
 
 Your Majesty has graciously deigned 
 ^ to accept the Dedication of my attempt to 
 restore to coloured life the gray shades of 
 Saxon History. 
 
 "^ As a Descendant of the brave Elector 
 
 Maurice, and as the Head of the illus-
 
 IV DEDICATION. 
 
 trious Saxon Dynasty, your Majesty will 
 decide, whether the effort of an unknown 
 and foreign artist in portraying this likcr 
 ness, deserves to be admitted among the 
 family resemblances in your Ancestrel 
 Hall. 
 
 If I have not entirely failed in re- 
 freshing in the minds of my countrymen 
 the glorious memory of the " Hero of 
 Germany," it must be ascribed to the 
 character of my subject, and the just 
 appreciation of his noble qualities, virtue, 
 wisdom and heroism : — qualities which 
 have happily proved hereditary on the 
 throne of Saxony. 
 
 To your Majesty's protection I have 
 no other claim than that of the un-
 
 DEDICATION. V 
 
 feigned and unbounded respect, with 
 which I have the honour to subscribe 
 myself, 
 
 Sire, 
 Your Majesty's devoted Servant, 
 
 Katharine Colquhoun. 
 
 St. James's Place, 
 May 10, 1844.
 
 MAURICE, 
 
 ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Come, meine frau," said the sturdy miller, 
 as he jerked his bonnet to dash from it the 
 rain drops, which it had imbibed in his 
 transit from the mill to the cottage, form- 
 ing a semicircle of moisture on the newly 
 sanded floor. 
 
 The cottag-e was but a few yards distant 
 from the place of his daily labour and his 
 daily gain ; but the rain fell fast ; the exposed 
 
 TOL. I. B
 
 2 MAURICE, 
 
 situation of the mill and cottage bared the 
 inhabitants of the latter to all the freaks of 
 wind and weather,from whichever quarterthe 
 storm might come. The heath on which these 
 buildings stood was of some extent, dotted 
 here and there with scattered clumps of fir, 
 birch,holly,and low furze; shallow pools, and 
 some undulations of the ground, with pits, 
 and ravines partly concealed by brushwood, 
 which found in these hollows a better soil 
 from the deposit of vegetable matter drifted 
 into them, in which to spread their tangled 
 roots, varied the barrenness of the heath ; the 
 scene was fair to look upon ; below was the 
 straggling village, with the spire of its 
 church partly concealed by trees, and 
 beyond on a high and rocky knoll, stood 
 the Castle of Reiterstein, with its unequal 
 towers, backed by dark woods and lofty 
 hills, while a small tributary stream wound 
 tortuously, sparkling by snatches through 
 the trees, and nearly surrounding the castle
 
 THE ELFXTOR OF SAXONY. 4 
 
 walls ; this liquid mirror was crossed by a 
 stone bridge. 
 
 Besides the two or three low huts occu- 
 pied occasionally by shepherds, the healh 
 presented no dwellings, and the miller, 
 although he could not boast that he was 
 in actual possession, lord of all he surveyed, 
 derived as much enjoyment from the pro- 
 spect as its owner could do. His humble 
 habitation was reared within a few yards 
 of the mill ; it consisted of a large kitchen, 
 with a capacious fire-place, admitting low 
 settles on either side ; at one end a door 
 opened into a small apartment, which served 
 as a sort of office to the miller, and a work- 
 room for his female companions, consist- 
 ing of Theresa his wife, and Thumelda his 
 daughter ; three chambers above afforded 
 lodging for the family ; on one side scullery, 
 dairy, and sheds ; on the other, granary, 
 stables and lodges running at right angles 
 with the house, formed a yard, which was 
 
 B 2
 
 1 MAURICE, 
 
 terminated by a small garden for vegetables, 
 herbs, and simples; in front a porch with 
 benches, and a few flowers at the side 
 g^uarded by a low paling-. This description 
 completes the rough sketch of the aiiller's 
 abode. 
 
 We must briefly give some account of its 
 humble inhabitants, inasmuch as they are 
 destined to figure in our following chapters. 
 
 The miller himself, was still in the prime 
 of life ; of goodly proportions, somewhat 
 above the ordinary height, of robust frame, 
 and ruddy complexion ; he had sharp intelli- 
 gent grey eyes, and a mouth expressive of a 
 naturally kind character ; his thickly curling 
 light brown hair, was as yet untinged by 
 the approach of vvintry age, and a well 
 formed head, with a nose rather thick than 
 aquiline, corresponded with his other fea- 
 tures, which were altogether of a most 
 agreeable and ingenuous cast. 
 
 Krantz, the miller, bore a high reputation
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. O 
 
 for probity, no man took note of the corn 
 delivered at the mill, assured that the pro- 
 duce would be faithfully rendered back to 
 him to th uttermost r;'.*ain. The con- 
 sequence of this impression was, that it 
 was never idle while there was a breeze 
 upon the heath. 
 
 Krantz succeeded his father in the mill, 
 to whom it had been gr: .ted upon the 
 acknowledgment of a sack of flour yearly, 
 in reward for long- service; .id the preser- 
 vation of the Baron Rodolf von Reiterstein's 
 life in the battlefield. 
 
 This family had been, from time im- 
 memorial, vassals, and retainers on the 
 Reiterstein estate ; but both the generous 
 Baron Rodolf, and the faithful elder Krantz, 
 had long- since been gathered to their fathers, 
 the former sleeping- under silken banners, 
 and warlike trophies in the chapel of the 
 castle, the latter beneath a green mound 
 in the village churchyard. The present
 
 6 MAURICE, 
 
 Krantz had married early in life the daugh- 
 ter of the Baroness's fcivoiite attendant ; at 
 that time a light, fairy-formed, brown eyed 
 girl. Years and maternity had somewhat 
 rounded her originally slight figure, and 
 perhaps a cheerful disposition, a happy 
 home, and competency, which was not en- 
 joyed without frugality, and did not permit 
 the indulgence of indolence, tended in a 
 great measure to preserve health and good 
 looks, and to add some solidity as years 
 passed on. Two children were granted to 
 this excellent pair; a youth of twenty, now 
 absent, worthy of his parents, and the pride 
 they took in his high qualities. And Thu- 
 melda, their daughter, who was as lovely a 
 maiden as rural domain ever boasted, and as 
 good a one. Such teaching as the reverend 
 pastor and the miller could give, had not 
 been neglected by her, — the damsel was 
 never idle, nor did she deem any household 
 occupation needful to be done, unworthy
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 7 
 
 of her attention or performance ; a village 
 orphan was therefore all they required to 
 aid them in their small and simple economy. 
 Thumelda had been for some months en- 
 gaged to the handsome Konrad, but the 
 miller was in no haste to deprive himself 
 of the society of his child, or throw upon 
 her at the age of eighteen, the cares of a 
 family, for which as yet Konrad was not 
 sufficiently opulent to provide. 
 
 " Come ! meine frau, now for supper, and 
 some fresh turf on the hearth. I am late, 
 but the sky looks black, and cruel in the 
 north, and I have been detained awhile to 
 make all snug at the mill." 
 
 This was an implied apology, for to oblige 
 a neighbour, the good man had kept his mill 
 going till the last minute ; the sun had gone 
 round also, and had sunk to rest in a watery 
 cloud, which foreboded a storm, and allowed 
 no delay in making the mill all snug as he 
 expressed it. The homely meal was set
 
 8 MAURICE, 
 
 forth, and soon discussed ; the shades of 
 night were deepened by the storm which 
 now beat with violence against the case- 
 ments. . The miller's robust frame was 
 stretched in comfortable ease upon one 
 of the settles in the chimney corner, while 
 Theresa prepared to remove the remains of 
 their evening repast. 
 
 ^'Thanks!" said Krantz, '* for a good 
 meal, although an humble one ; and^now, my 
 Thumelda, come and kiss thy father; me- 
 thinks thou lookest somewhat tired, after 
 the village revels of this morning. What 
 ails my child ? did Konrad forget the love- 
 knot at Kemnitz fair, or take a turn too long 
 with one of farmer Miiller's daughters ?^' 
 
 ''Neither, my father,^' answered Thumelda, 
 *' Konrad is kind and constant, but ^' 
 
 '' But what, my child V 
 
 A tear stood in his daughter's bright eye, 
 and a blush tinged her cheek as she replied : 
 " my mother will tell you why I am vexed.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. D 
 
 and why 1 fear Konrad may be hurt^ and>c 
 I was not to blame/^ 
 
 The father smiled. "Ah! as I thought, 
 somelovei'sdiflference, and Konrad, although 
 a good and generous youth, is somewhat 
 hasty and jealous.'* 
 
 " You are partly right," joined in Theresa, 
 " but the sooner you know why Thumelda is 
 so disturbed, the better, that worse may not 
 come of it, and anxiously have we been 
 waiting for you this evening. As you know, 
 you left her down at the village with Kon- 
 rad and old Hilda to enjoy awhile the sports 
 going on ; well, while they were dancing in 
 the group, who should suddenly appear 
 among them, whom we thought far away, 
 but our bold, dark Baron." 
 
 At the mention of the Baron, the miller 
 started from his listless posture ; finding his 
 wife pause from his sudden movement, he 
 hastily cried, ^' go on.'' 
 
 "The Baron," continued Theresa, " when 
 
 B 5
 
 30 MAURICE, 
 
 the dance was suspended, mixed amon^ the 
 group with some of his lawless companions: 
 he had remained looking- on for some time, 
 but after awhile he fixed his bold, dark eyes 
 on our child, and said *Ah! my pretty 
 lass, and where are you from?' Thumelda 
 quietly answered. 
 
 " ' I am the daughter of Krantz the 
 Miller. 
 
 '* ' Indeed ! and a bright jewel too, far too 
 handsome to be hid in so dusty a casket. 
 You are worth a more costly keeping.* '^ 
 
 " Thumelda liked neither his looks nor his 
 manner, but her modesty did not suit his 
 bold ways, and he seized her hand to 
 lead her forth. She said she was tired, 
 and had no wish to dance again, but he 
 would not be denied, and dragged her into 
 the throng. As soon as it was concluded 
 she escaped from him, mixed in the crowd, 
 and then ran home alone, for Konrad, after 
 watching them for a few minutes, had dis-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONV. IJ 
 
 appeared ; but Thumelda says he looked 
 angry, and flung away from the dancers. 
 Our child dreads this bad man, and fears, 
 lest Konrad should suppose she had given 
 him any encouragement, especially as he 
 has not been up the hill to seek her, or 
 inquire how she got home.'^ 
 
 The miller seemed to take this affair, even 
 more seriously into consideration than his 
 wife and daughter. His habitually open, 
 good humoured countenance exhibited un- 
 usual signs of perturbation and anger. 
 "Thumelda,^^ he exclaimed, ^* must on no 
 account leave the mill while the Earon 
 remains at the castle, nor must he see her 
 again. You know as well as I do, with 
 whom we have to deal ; — but for the per- 
 suasions of that headstrong, jealous youth, 
 she never should have joined the revels this 
 morning ; — and he deserted her," he added 
 with vexation, " when his presence was 
 most needed.''
 
 12 MAURICE, 
 
 *'0h! my father, do not blame Kon- 
 rad ; who could foresee that the Baron 
 would be there, or would notice the miller*s 
 daughter?*' 
 
 " I could believe he would do so,'^ an- 
 swered Krantz, " and not for the fairest 
 field of corn ever garnered into the mill 
 loft, would I that this should have hap- 
 pened, nor should it, if I had suspected 
 him to be in this part of the country/' 
 
 Scarcely was his speech concluded, when 
 the rain pattered more loudly against the 
 low casements, the wind whistled in wild 
 eddies around the house, and a clap of 
 thunder, unusual at the season, confirmed 
 the miller in the wisdom of his evening's 
 precautious. Amidst the din, a moan 
 reached Thumelda's ears, it seemed borne 
 away by the bustling wind. "Hark!" she 
 cried, " what was that?" 
 
 "The sighing of the wind, "replied Krantz ; 
 *' you are fearful tonight; — *' but speedily
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 13 
 
 ano'her moan heard in the partial lull of 
 the storm, checked the miller's unbelief, 
 while a feeble knock at the door further 
 convinced him, that Thumelda was not beset 
 by idle fears. 
 
 "I will g-o," said Krantz ; '' it was the 
 cry of distress and must not be re- 
 peated." 
 
 Thus saying-, he unlocked the door, and 
 went into the porch. 
 
 "Here, here, Theresa!" he exclaimed, 
 ''quick, and help!'* His wife hastened 
 across the kitchen, and reached the door 
 in time to hold it open, which a gust of 
 wind and rain rendered no easy task ; while 
 the miller bore into the house a female, 
 drenched, and nearly insensible, whom he 
 gave into Thumelda's arms ; he then went 
 out a second time, and returned w ith a child 
 about a year old. They placed the female 
 on one of the settles, and had removed 
 some of her dripping- garments, ere she
 
 14 MAURICE, 
 
 seemed conscious of their friendly efforts to 
 afford her relief. Theresa poured out a cup 
 of wine, which she held to the lips of the suf- 
 ferer ; the small quantity she took appeared 
 to revive her. " Thumelda, do you look to 
 the child," said Krantz. The maiden ran 
 hastily up stairs, and it was the work of a 
 few moments only to undress the little one, 
 wrap him in a blanket, and then supply him 
 with some w^arm bread and milk. '* Now 
 Thumelda," said the kind hearted Theresa, 
 "make ready the small chamber next to 
 yours, for these poor wanderers, the rest of 
 their wet clothes must be removed, I will 
 prepare some." Here the stranger in- 
 terposed by a feeble pressure on Theresa's 
 arm, which seemed to beg for some delay ; 
 lookiug^anxiouslyonherchild and around, she 
 faintly uttered, " secrecy," then made a sign 
 for the lamp, and motioning the miller and 
 his wife to approach, displayed a small 
 enamelled cross, saying, " by this you will
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 15 
 
 know me.'^ They both earnestly examined 
 the proffered trinket, and seemed for some 
 seconds bewildered. The miller then crossed 
 the kitchen with a hasty stride, barred fast 
 the door, closed the shutters, and removed 
 the lamp into a more shaded corner. 
 
 "Now, my wife, caution to you is needless, 
 but Thumelda, who as yet knows not the 
 necessity, must be told, that as she values 
 my love, this lady^s coming- must not be 
 whispered, even to Konrad.'* 
 
 " Trust me, my father, without the threat- 
 ened risk of such a penalty, I will say nought 
 of this to any one." 
 
 "Enough, my child, your word is ever 
 truth ; now, lady, trust yourself and your 
 boy with those for whom I can answer ; to- 
 morrow we will take further measures to 
 put you beyond the hazard of any alarm." 
 
 Carefully and kindly they led their guest 
 to the small sleeping apartment which they 
 had arranged for her. Theresa prepared
 
 16 MAURICE, 
 
 some posset, and had soon the satisfac- 
 tion of leaving- mother and child to their 
 repose. 
 
 The party was once more assembled round 
 the hearth. " Thumelda/' said Krantz, '*you 
 have promised, and I can rely upon your 
 discretion, but Konrad's desertion of you 
 this day, has g-iyen me no favourable opinion 
 of his ; ruin may overtake us all, by one 
 light word ; now to bed, my child, tomorrow 
 at sunrise, I shall tax your obedience, be 
 ready for a journey ; as we g-o on our way, 
 I will explain its object, God bless you." 
 
 Thumelda kissed her parents, received 
 their nightly blessing, and having made the 
 necessary arrangements for the early jour- 
 ney of the morning, soon forgot her transient 
 disturbances in sleep. Not so with those 
 who remained. " Theresa," said the mil- 
 ler, *^ we must be alert, there is much to 
 be cared for, but first I will arouse our 
 faithful Schultz, and take him into our
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 17 
 
 councils ; we can and must rely upon his as- 
 sistance, there is more in this matter than I 
 can watch and ward myself, and all must be 
 secure before the morning- breaks, busy 
 yourself awhile in assorting- these wet gar- 
 ments, and I will return ^^ith him/* His 
 wife nodded assent, and supplying- him with 
 alight, proceeded to arrange all things after 
 the unusual interruption of their ordinarily 
 calm evenings, while Krantz cautiously 
 mounted a back stair which led to Schultz's 
 chamber over the offices. Her work was 
 barely completed when her husband re- 
 turned, accompanied by the old man, who 
 entered wondering, and seated himself on 
 the settle, evidently feeling that chill which 
 the being- suddenly aroused from sleep 
 occasions. He v»as a man sometime past 
 his prime, but his was the vigorous old age 
 of temperance and of a healthy conscience, 
 and although he had not passed through life 
 unscathed by sorrow, he had meekly bowed
 
 18 MAURICE, 
 
 to the will of God. There was an anxious 
 and careful cast over his countenance, which 
 did not express cunninj^, but the sharpness 
 of good intellect and acute feeling* ; — thelat- 
 ter subdued by the necessity of self control. 
 
 *' Come, dame,'^ said Krantz, " as I have 
 thus untimely awakened our good Schultz 
 from his slumbers, we must brace him for 
 his labours, with a mulled cup from yonder 
 flask, and some spiced toast; we will talk 
 of business while he does justice to your 
 brewing.'^ 
 
 Schultz had formerly held the situation 
 of butler at the castle, but upon the acces- 
 sion of the new dynasty was not un- 
 willing to accept the dismissal which was 
 dispensed to all its old retainers ; since 
 which time he had found a happy asylum 
 with his good friend the miller, whom he 
 had nursed in childhood, proffering such 
 small services about the mill as his age could 
 compass, and as were required, or suited his
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 19 
 
 pleasure. The sudden call at this late hour 
 had puzzled and alarmed him ; these ap- 
 prehensions were by no means diminished 
 when Krantz detailed the events of the day 
 and evening", he exclaimed, while empty- 
 ing the wine cup, "Bless us, is it possible? 
 but who can the lady be?" When the 
 miller concluded by mentioning* the evi- 
 dence of the cross, the old man bowed 
 forward his head upon his hands, and the 
 fast tears trickled plentifully through his 
 lean fingers ; sobs forced themselves from 
 his breast, and long passed scenes and 
 fondly cherished recollections were recalled 
 to memory and rushed through his thoughts 
 in painful review. The living pictures of 
 those no more, stood in gay array as he had 
 known them in young-er, and in happier times, 
 in all the panoply of health and beauty, 
 of hope and innocent mirth ; and where are 
 they now ? and what remains of these 
 by-gone scenes ? Nothing. He was passing
 
 20 MAURI CK, 
 
 to the grave without a ray of hope for their 
 renewal 
 
 The miller left him for a time to his emo- 
 tions, then gently laying- his hand on his 
 shoulder, said, *' Come, Schultz, another 
 cup, and then we must to work without 
 delay, or gray morn will surprise us ere we 
 note its coming/' 
 
 The old man took the draught offered,— 
 he needed it, for in those brief moments of 
 indulged retrospection, he had lived his life 
 ag-ain. He arose, and resolutely casting 
 away his renewed sorrow, said ; ^* I am 
 ready to do your bidding, and Heaven 
 grant us success." 
 
 " It is clear," said Krantz, " that the 
 stranger's residence here must remain un- 
 known. To send her hence in safety and 
 unseen, would be more than difficult ; as you 
 know spies, ever the agents of suspicion, 
 are not wanting hereabouts, and this most 
 unfortunate encounter of the Baron with
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 21 
 
 Thumelda will bring- them more frequently 
 on the heath. Thanks to the mist and the 
 storm, rude as it is, her coming may have 
 escaped observation ; not so will her de- 
 parture ; she must remain here." 
 
 '^ Remain here," exclaimed Schultz, ^' that 
 will ensure detection. How can a woman 
 and a child be harboured on these premises, 
 so that none about the mill shall see them, 
 and g-ossip the news in the village?" 
 
 '* More easily, my old friend, than you 
 imagine, and here it is that you must 
 assist me.'^ Thus saying, he took up the 
 lamp; carefully shading it with his hand, so 
 that no rays might pass through the chinks 
 of the door or shutters, and proceeding to 
 the further end of the kitchen, he removed a 
 few dishes from some shelves above a dresser 
 which ran along that side of the room, and 
 touching a spring, some portion of it folded 
 back, and discovered behind a low door. 
 
 "Now, Theresa, do you remain behind;
 
 22 MAURICE, 
 
 place your light out of view of the window, 
 in the chimney corner, and await our return. 
 If you hear aught moving-, reclose the door, 
 and let no one in, although none are 
 likely to visit us at this hour." 
 
 He then proceeded, followed by Schultz. 
 A few steps brought them into a passage, 
 three or four more upwards into an apart- 
 ment of tolerable dimensions, but somewhat 
 encumbered by various old tackle and ropes 
 pertaining- to the mill, now out of use. 
 
 " Here," said Krantz, " I propose to con- 
 ceal my guest, the door which you see on 
 the opposite side, leads into a similar pas- 
 sage, and a few stairs conduct to a trap door 
 which opens into the mill. It has been out 
 of use, and is hidden by lumber. This retreat 
 is known only to Theresa and myself; our 
 present business is to stow away this tackle 
 in one corner, where there is ample space, 
 and make it as comfortable a habitation for 
 the present, as time permits. I dare not
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 23 
 
 remove this rubbish into the mill, lest I 
 should excite suspicion. Now to work." 
 Anon they busied themselves with good 
 will. 
 
 *' But surely/' said Schultz, *^ you do not 
 intend they should sleep on the boards ?^^ 
 
 " Wait awhile," said Krantz, " Theresa 
 will manage that. Catharine is never em- 
 ployed upstairs, or much in the house, and 
 we can easily bring hither such things as 
 are requisite for their comfort. Wait you 
 here, finish what remains to be done, — I will 
 be back immediately." 
 
 The miller quickly returned with all ap- 
 pliances for disturbing the congregated 
 dust and cobwebs, and having completed 
 his operations to his satisfaction, he took 
 his lamp and apparatus, followed by his 
 companion. " Now, Theresa, we need your 
 help, we must furnish our lodging." Beds, 
 tables and stools were speedily transferred 
 to the chamber, and the whole made as
 
 24 MAURICE, 
 
 comfortable as the short time allowed. 
 Still Schultz pondered and looked dis- 
 tressed. 
 
 " After all/' he said, '^ it is a dungeon, 
 shut out from the light of day, and the sweet 
 breath of the hill." 
 
 *' Not quite so bad," replied Krantz ; he 
 slid aside a small panel and added : ^' This 
 is liltle enough, I confess, to admit these 
 blessings, but carefully used, a small por- 
 tion may be enjoyed, and when such is the 
 case we must guard against curious and 
 prying eyes. Now Theresa must complete 
 her work ; two more journeys and all will 
 be ready. I must hereafter see to the upper 
 trap, and secure an egress that w^ay without 
 endangering discovery." 
 
 The trio were again in consultation; it 
 was agreed that Krantz should depart soon 
 after daybreak in his light waggon to Kem- 
 nitz, taking Thumelda with him ; purchase 
 such changes of garments as would be abso-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 25 
 
 iutely needful for their guest, and secretly 
 bring back Thumelda to share their confine- 
 ment. 
 
 *' Now, Theresa, it lacks but an hour of 
 dawn ; you must arouse the lady, explain to 
 her the necessity of speedy removal, while I 
 awake Thumelda, for Catherine will soon be 
 astir.*' 
 
 VOL. E.
 
 26 MAURICE, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Ere the gray morn had fully dawned, the 
 miller's guest was safe in the chamber, 
 having partaken of a light repast, the 
 sleeping boy removed, and Thumelda seated 
 by her father in a waggon drawn by two 
 stout nags, on their way to Kemnitz. 
 
 Krantz kept his word, and explained to 
 Thumelda his plans and wishes. 
 
 After they had arrived, having cared for the 
 horses, and partaken of refreshment at the 
 house of a near relation of Krantz's, they set
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 27 
 
 forth to make their various purchases. Having 
 completed these, they proceeded to the post 
 house, whence the only diligence, then in use, 
 a covered waggon, departed ; Krantz caused 
 Thumelda^s name to be entered at the post 
 house, then made a sudden turn when they 
 reached the market place, and deposited her 
 for a while with his relation. 
 
 '* Do not stir hence, Thumelda, for I doubt 
 there is one from the castle who from some 
 motive hath dodged us." 
 
 On returning he encountered the same 
 man, who was lounging at the door of a 
 wine shop ; he was willing to pass on has- 
 tily, but the other had no such intention. 
 
 *' Ha ! if I mistake not, you are Krantz 
 the miller, whither so fast ?'' 
 
 " On business, my lad, though *tis no 
 matter of yours to put questions to pas- 
 sengers.*^ 
 
 "The keen air of the morning has not 
 smoothed your temper, Master miller, I 
 
 c 2
 
 28 MAURICE, 
 
 could well bestow a cup of mine host's Rhe- 
 nish here to brighten your humour, and 
 pledge a health to the fair Thumelda, and a 
 safe journey home." 
 
 ** I need no such spur to sharpen my wits, 
 my friend, nor do I wish my daughter's name 
 to be mixed in drunkard cups by libertine 
 lips." 
 
 "Ah! ah !"said the fellow, " there goes an 
 unsocial dog, who perches himself on his 
 mill like a scare-crow on the top of a cherry 
 tree with a clapper in his hand, to frighten 
 gay birds from the tempting fruit, but I 
 doubt there are some who will bring him 
 from his altitude, and taste his fruit spite of 
 his clatter.'^ 
 
 The miller's quick ears caught the speak- 
 er's words as he passed on ; he lost no time 
 in seeking Thumelda, arranged his packages, 
 and placing her under sundry sheaves of 
 corn, made the best of his way homewards. 
 
 As towards evening he wound slowly 
 up the hill, he perceived more than one
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 29 
 
 figrure moving before his house. To wait 
 or retreat was impossible, as they no doubt 
 had already discerned his approach ; there 
 was no resource therefore, but to put the 
 best face upon it, and continue his pace. 
 He whispered to Thumelda to remain quiet 
 until she was released ; and driving leisure- 
 ly into the yard, he backed his waggon near 
 the steps of the mill, and calling to Carl to 
 take charge of the cattle, proceeded round 
 to the front of the house. 
 
 The first object which saluted his sight, 
 was the tall figure of the Baron, clad in a 
 hunting suit of green, in conversation with 
 Theresa ; a glance, quickly exchanged with 
 his wife, assured him that all within was safe, 
 but caution necessary. Krantz respectfully 
 removed his cap, and said sharply to The- 
 resa ; " How is it that you suffer the Baron 
 to stand on the threshold of our door?^' 
 
 " I crave his Lordship's pardon," replied 
 Theresa, " but unused to such an honour my
 
 JiO MAURICE, 
 
 good manners have not kept pace with my 
 wish to acknowledge the distinction." 
 
 The Baron willingly accepted the apology 
 and as his object was to insinuate, replied, 
 ** I, faith, my good friend Krantz, you give 
 not much encouragemeat, as I hear, to your 
 neighbours to seek your hospitality, for if 
 report be true, you rarely pay your duty at 
 the castle, or pledge its Lord's health there 
 in wassail bowl/^ 
 
 " In truth my lord, to this I plead guilty ; 
 I can rarely be spared from the mill, except 
 on some such errand as to day, which com- 
 bined business with the fulfilment of a pro- 
 mise, and to bring grist from the market, 
 for my merry-go-round/* 
 
 " Methinks your duty might have balanced 
 your promise, and drawn you with others to 
 greet our return ; but no more of this ; I am 
 somewhat warm and weary with the chase, 
 and shall trench on your dairy, or your cel- 
 lar, for a bowl of milk, or a cup of wine.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 31 
 
 Here, Ludwig send the rest of your fellows 
 home, and the dogs to their kennels; doubt- 
 less no man is more able than our miller 
 to fill the manger for our steeds; in the 
 meantime I shall crave our Dame Theresa^s 
 hospitality to give a hungry man some re- 
 freshment, and her fair daughter shall be 
 the Hebe to give zest to a glass of Rhe- 
 nish.'* 
 
 " Such as our larder can furnish is at ray 
 Lord's service ; and Krantz no doubt will 
 seek a flask of that rare old wine, the present 
 of our late Lord, when he hailed the birth 
 of his daughter/' 
 
 For a moment a thundercloud passed over 
 the Baron's dark brow, but quickly assum- 
 ing a bland smile, he said : 
 
 *^Be it so, Dame, but do not forget that 
 your daughter must be the cupbearer, and 
 impart that flavour which may have some- 
 what evaporated by age." 
 
 " I trust. Baron," replied Krantz, ^* you
 
 32 MAURICE, 
 
 may fiad it as palatable, as it'Thumelda were 
 here to offer her dutiful service.'^ 
 
 « Why, how his this/' cried the Baron ; 
 ** you suffer your g-ay bird to wanton where 
 she lists with undipped wings ? I was told 
 that you were more chary of the maiden.^' 
 
 Krantz bit his lips, and his brawny arm 
 was tremulous with anger atthespeech of the 
 bold Baron; his ruddy face crimsoned deeply ; 
 but as calmly as he could, he replied : *' My 
 gay bird, as you are pleased to term her 
 Baron, is no wanton of gaudy plumag-e ; nor 
 does she need that her feathers should be 
 spoiled or trimmed, to keep her within the 
 dove cot, when hawks hover nigh ; she is 
 more likely to wing her flight homewards, 
 for escape from such a danger ; she is not 
 here ; ere this she is many a long- league 
 from hence, nor likely to return awhile ;" 
 and immediately added — " Now Theresa, my 
 old Rhenish must make its apology for the 
 scantiness of your larder, which truth to
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 33 
 
 say, presents no semblance of a holiday 
 feast ; and I trust its flavour will convince 
 the Baron that it has lost none of its spirit in 
 the keeping, for so honoured an occasion." 
 
 Krantz went in quest of the wine, casting 
 a sly glance of caution to Theresa, who at- 
 tended her unwelcome guest with an assu- 
 med air of simplicity. 
 
 "So I suppose/' carelessly observed the 
 Baron, " you feared the gay gallants down 
 yonder. Dame Theresa, and thought some 
 leagues might as well be put between gal- 
 lantry and beauty.'' 
 
 ** My Lord, we could not apprehend dan- 
 ger to Thumelda from the great folks at the 
 castle. Krantz has long promised that she 
 should visit her auat, and he ever keeps his 
 word." 
 
 *' Humph," muttered the Baron. 
 
 At this moment Schultz hastily rushed in, 
 and whispered to Theresa. 
 
 A smile of incredulity curled the Baron's 
 
 c 5
 
 34 MAURICE, 
 
 Jip, but Theresa said aloud ; " Schultz you 
 must tell Krantz ; but here he comes. 
 Krantz give me the flask ; there is something 
 wrong at the mill, and Schultz waits your 
 orders to set matters right." 
 
 " Confound their stupid heads/' said 
 Krantz ; " thus it ever is ; one would think 
 the wind would not blow, if I were not there 
 to whistle for it ; excuse me Baron." He 
 then dashed out of the kitchen, well aware 
 that Schultz would not have volunteered 
 into the Baron's presence upon a bootless 
 errand : but what was his consternation when 
 he saw one of his men and the Count's at- 
 tendant mounted on the waggon, and busily 
 employed in handing the sheaves into the 
 mill. ** Oh oh ! there," he cried in haste, 
 " who bade you sirrah to do work and seek 
 assistance without an order ?*' 
 
 '* So I told them," said Schultz, *' but they 
 called me an old fool for my pains." 
 
 The men descended from the waggon.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 35 
 
 " Why master/^ said Carl, "I thought 
 you would like the corn housed afore night, 
 and there is small daylight to spare/^ 
 
 "Peace, sirrah, know you not that the 
 loft is nearly full, and that I never mix my 
 neighbour's corn ; what if it be damaged ? 
 It is not you will pay the cost : go and see 
 that Ludwig hath provender for his master's 
 cattle, and when it needs, we shall soon 
 make light of handing a few sheaves into 
 the granary. Schultz, be it your care to 
 give Ludwig to drink success to the mill." 
 Schultz understood, and kept the officious, 
 but in this instance, well meaning Ludwig 
 fully employed over the foaming tankard. 
 
 Poor Thumelda during this time, had been 
 in no enviable position ; she had heard the 
 altercation between Schultz and the men; 
 each moment she dreaded a discovery, and 
 its results to her father; however, obedient 
 to his injunctions, she had remained per-
 
 36 MAURICE^ 
 
 fectly still. Her position was by no means 
 conducive to personal comfort; she was 
 cramped from the long- confinement ; and 
 although her father in loading- the waggon, 
 had contrived to leave a space around 
 her, the high pile of straw rendered her 
 abode most uncomfortably warm, and 
 almost suffocating-. 
 
 Ere the miller's return, the Baron, still 
 doubting, had expressed a desire to inspect 
 the house and mill. Here was another 
 dilemma, and Krantz was at his wits' end 
 to rid himself of his guest; however having- 
 pressed the Baron with all the cordiality he 
 could assume to honour again his prized 
 wine, he handed him the cup. 
 
 ^* Your wine, my friend, is not so mortal 
 as I thought : it has retained its strength in 
 its old age^' — and rising, he unceremoniously 
 threw open the door of the small parlour; 
 but there was no evidence of recent female 
 occupation. Some things had evidently been
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 37 
 
 cast aside in haste, which gave further con- 
 firmation to the miller's assertion that Thu- 
 melda was absent. 
 
 The Baron's curiosity for an inspection of 
 the mill was fast evaporating, when a horse- 
 man was seen crossing the heath, who 
 quickly drew rein at the door. This was 
 the man, Krantz had encountered in the 
 town. He dismounted, and dofiing his 
 cap, handed some sealed packets to his 
 master. The miller moved to a short dis- 
 tance, when the man whispered to the 
 Baron : '* my Lord, the fox on the hill-side 
 has been too sharp for us : our bird has 
 flown." 
 
 *^ How know you this, sirrah V 
 *^ Why, while waiting till the arrival of 
 your lordship's messenger early this morn- 
 ing, I saw them arrive. I dodged them 
 awhile, but in the market place which was 
 unusually crowded, lost sight of them. I 
 saw him afterwards leave the town alone.'*
 
 38 MAURICE, 
 
 "Think you he left her there?" 
 
 " No, my lord, for when I went to the post- 
 house, to seek that larger packet, I found 
 her name inserted in the book for travellers ; 
 the waggon was gone/' 
 
 *' Enough,'* said the Baron. 
 
 He hastily scanned hig letters, and what- 
 ever might be the news they contained, it 
 did not seem to afford him much satisfaction. 
 Giving the man orders to arouse Ludwig 
 from his potations, and bring round the 
 horses, he called to the miller " Krantz, I 
 must defer my visit to your mill; I have 
 news which demands my immediate presence 
 at the castle; hurry that knave; your beer 
 seems stronger than his sense of duty." 
 
 We may imagine that Krantz did not loiter, 
 but lent a willing hand to girth and buckle, 
 and in two minutes he had the satisfaction 
 of holding the stirrup for the Baron to 
 mount. He remained, however, on the spot
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXOiNV. 39 
 
 till they disappeared at the bottom of the 
 hill. Old Schultz now joined him. 
 
 '' Well, what now, Schultz?'' 
 
 " Why this, master : you will not have 
 much help from that stupid fellow Carl, he 
 is now well nigh drunk.'' 
 
 "So much the better,'' said Krantz,let him 
 finish the tankard and put a night-cap on his 
 senses, we will trust to a heavy sleep to bring 
 back the stray donkies ; let me know when 
 his head reels faster than the mill sails in a 
 gale. Call in Gantz from the mill, and bid 
 him drink to the Baron's health, and I will 
 see to release my hidden treasure." 
 
 Krantz advanced to the waggon, whistled 
 cheerily, and pretending to examine the con- 
 tents whispered, " all's well." 
 
 Schultz now appeared with Gantz. 
 
 '' Gantz," said Krantz, " you are a steady 
 lad, go with Schultz who will give you 
 wherewithal to lighten your work, for I 
 must demand a later labour than usual from
 
 40 MAURICE, 
 
 you in unloading- the waggon ; but tarry 
 not to drown your senses in the tankard. 
 Schultz, tell Theresa I need a cup of wine, 
 and that she must employ Catharine for a 
 few minutes in the house/' 
 
 Having thus secured himself from obser- 
 vation, the miller lost no time in removing 
 some of the load to the forepart of the 
 wag"gon, so as to form a screen ; then re- 
 leasing Thumelda, handed her up the ladder, 
 let her down by the trap from which Schultz 
 had removed its heavier incumbrances, and 
 replaced the corn in its original state. This 
 done a loudly whistled tune told that all 
 was right. The corn was deposited in one 
 of the granaries, the packages handed into 
 the house, and the miller breathed more 
 freely than he had done that day. 
 
 ** I have had an anxious and a hard day^s 
 work, Theresa. How fares the lady V 
 
 '^ As far as I know/' replied she, "well 
 and comfortable, and I doubt not will find
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 41 
 
 a companion welcome, more especially such 
 a one as ourThumelda. Hang that Baron's 
 prying eyes, they were every where, but 
 thank Heaven he is on a wrong scent, 
 he little thinks his lost game roosts so 
 near." 
 
 Krantz, while he took a hasty meal, then 
 related the adventures of the day. 
 
 '' Well, Schultz, I think this night we may 
 take needful rest ; I would fain give our 
 prisoners some fresh air and exercise, but 
 this I dare not do as yet, and we shall find 
 occupation for them in the various pur- 
 chases we have brought with us. Here are 
 toys for the little one ; we must contrive 
 now to visit them, or the boy will go sup- 
 perless to bed." 
 
 Theresa quickly stored the basket, with 
 a bottle of warm milk, and more than was 
 required, in case accident might delay the 
 morning's supply. Catherine was dismissed 
 for the night ; the various packages were
 
 42 MAURICE, 
 
 quickly handed to Theresa, and the entrance 
 closed, until she should give the signal 
 for her return. 
 
 She found the small group seated round 
 the table ; tears filled her eyes as she gazed 
 on the beautiful and elegant stranger, and 
 the lovely boy who was sporting on Thu- 
 melda's knee. Her guest arose, and advanc- 
 ing to her said — *^ How, my good Theresa, 
 shall I thank you?" and leaning on the dame's 
 shoulder, her tears fell fast. Theresa wisely 
 remained silent until this natural burst had 
 passed, then, gently leading her back to 
 a seat, brought in the various packages. 
 
 '^Thumelda can best produce her stores 
 in due order," observed she, '^ for I conclude 
 she has not been silent on to day's adven- 
 tures, but I mistake, if she has not provided 
 occupation for herself to while away the 
 hours of confinement." 
 
 ** And for me she is thus imprisoned," 
 responded the lady.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 43 
 
 "By no means, " rejoined Theresa. 
 
 Now, in truth, Thumelda in her maidenly 
 modestly, had touched lightly on the scene 
 at the village, but Theresa soon convinced 
 the fair prisoner that Thumelda's tempo- 
 rary confinement was most prudent for all 
 parties. 
 
 The lady protested her competency to 
 assist Thumelda in the various arrangements 
 which would be necessary for an addition to 
 the wardrobe of mother and child, and while 
 thus occupied, noting down what would fur- 
 ther be required, and preparing to spread 
 their light supper, and other similar matters, 
 we will leave them. 
 
 " Schultz,^^ observed Krantz, *^ 1 promised 
 Thumelda that I would see that witless fellow 
 Konrad to day ; this I have not been able 
 to do, but you must seek him early, and bid 
 him to the mill, at the hour of our noon 
 meal ; love hath addled the brain of this 
 youth and *'
 
 44 MAURICE, 
 
 At this momenta tap at the door arrested 
 the eloquent miller, who arose and touched 
 a wire, which, communicating with a small 
 bell, gave Theresa notice not to return until 
 the signal was repeated. He then hastened 
 to undo the latch. 
 
 *^ Oh ho ! my good sir,'' exclaimed Krantz, 
 addressing a youth who stood rather irreso- 
 lutely in the door way, ^* methinks you have 
 chosen the owl's dawn for your visit ; what 
 brings you at an hour when drowsy people 
 are forestalling their dreams ?'' 
 
 Konrad, little assured by this welcome, 
 made a step in retreat, for by this time he 
 had advanced into the middle of the room ; 
 shame, love, and anger were confusedly 
 mixed and harassing his thoughts, and he 
 replied doggedly ; '* my welcome, master 
 Krantz, is rather such as that bird of night 
 gives ; it savours more of a hoot than a 
 friendly hail ; but I have heard strange 
 tidings in the village, and I am come to know
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY 45 
 
 how far I may credit the reports, and learn 
 the truth from you.'^ 
 
 *^ Humph,'' said Krantz with a sly smile, 
 " what news, ray brave bird, do you bring 
 from the church steeple ?" 
 
 *'This,'' replied Konrad, *^ that you have 
 sent Thumelda away, no one knows 
 whither." 
 
 *'Sure enough," said Krantz, ** nor will 
 they, for reasons of my own ; but what of 
 this Konrad? have you climbed the hill 
 to reach this knowledge V 
 
 Konrad affronted at Krantz's sneering 
 look and manner, boldly answered — 
 
 " 1 am come, master Krantz to say, that 
 I think myself hardly used, that Thumelda 
 should be spirited away ; and that I should 
 hear the tale from one of the half drunken 
 brawlers of the castle whom I chanced to 
 meet, and who had been making acquaint- 
 ance with your ale tankard.'' 
 
 " Good my lad ; did you expect that I was 
 to despatch a carrier pigeon with a bur-
 
 46 MAURICE, 
 
 thened wing, to tell you that Thumelda*s 
 parents, for good reasons of their own, willed 
 that she should leave, for a time, a neigh- 
 bourhood no longer safe for her?" 
 
 '^ I should have expected," retorted Kon- 
 rad, " that chance would not have given me 
 possession of the knowledge of her absence, 
 because I am her betrothed, because, what- 
 ever your reasons, I might have been trusted, 
 because " 
 
 " Tut man," interrupted Krantz, " upon 
 my life a most trustworthy champion, a 
 most watchful shepherd, who leaves his 
 young lamb as soon as he sees the wolf 
 prepared to invade the fold. Mark you, 
 young man," and the miller abandoning his 
 sarcastic manner, pressed Konrad's arm 
 nervously, and looking full in his face, said 
 sorrowfully and seriously ; '* you have be- 
 trayed your trust ; that trust reposed con- 
 fidently in you by Thumelda^s parents, who 
 were weak enough, as it has proved, to
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXIONY. 47 
 
 confide the darling of their hearts to your 
 care to join yesterday's revels in the village. 
 What did you but abandon the maiden to 
 the libertine pursuit of a man, whom the 
 world deems not over scrupulous when 
 beauty meets his gaze? In a petulant fit 
 of jealousy for which she gave you no cause, 
 you left the side of her whom you had passed 
 your word to guard. With decent discretion 
 she left the scene of danger, where she felt 
 she had no protector ; thanks be to that dis- 
 cretion which has possibly saved her whom 
 you deserted. Such conduct merits neither 
 Thumelda's continued love as its reward, 
 nor her parent's trust as the safe guardian 
 of her purity." 
 
 **0h! master Krantz/' replied Konrad, 
 " why did Thumelda consent to listen, and 
 join the dance as she did ?" 
 
 *' And who, impetuous youth, was to gain- 
 say that haughty Baron, who holds all on 
 his lands as vassals to his will ? a simole
 
 48 MAURICE, 
 
 maiden? She did what modest maiden could 
 do, but she had no gallant youth to back her 
 repugnance, or lead her from the scene of 
 danger. Thumelda's hand must be bestowed 
 on one who can command his passions, and 
 protect her in the hour of danger/^ 
 
 "Oh Heaven \" cried the unhappy youth, 
 " do you mean to say that you have sent her 
 from home to sever the bond of union be- 
 tween us, and that she has consented to such 
 a separation?" 
 
 " I do mean this/' replied the miller firmly; 
 " and she has consented willingly to our 
 wishes to be parted from you, and saved 
 from him ; and you must act differently, and 
 mould your mind to some self-command, 
 ere yonder village bells shall peel for your 
 marriage rites with child of mine/^ 
 
 Konrad flung himself in despair on a 
 seat, and crossing his hands on its back, 
 hid his face in anguish. For a time he 
 remained motionless, then looking up with
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 49 
 
 grief in every feature, and placing his liand 
 in the miller's, exclaimed : " Master Krantz, 
 I have been wrong, very wrong, and humbly 
 crave your pardon and that of my beloved 
 one. I now see all the consequences of my 
 mad jealousy. It was base, most base, that 
 I should suffer any circumstance to cause 
 a betrayal of my trust.^^ 
 
 He arose, — and with a voice almost choked 
 by sorrow, said : *' Master Krantz, let not 
 Thumelda hate and despise me ; I will yet 
 prove myself worthy of her love and for- 
 giveness, and of your friendship ;" and 
 snatching his bonnet from the floor, he 
 rushed from the house. 
 
 VOL.
 
 50 MAURICE, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The morning- was young and fresh ; the 
 lark was giving- out his sweet song in the 
 blue sky above. A delicious perfume was 
 exhaled from the blooming heath, wild 
 thyme, and yellow furze, while the mill 
 lazily made its turns, catching the gentle 
 breeze in its ponderous sails, which flung 
 their alternate shadows on the short, thick, 
 dewy grass. 
 
 The miller w^as watching their heavy 
 rounds, and stood leaning against the porch
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 51 
 
 of his cottage, with folded arms. He was 
 calm, but his countenance was not free from 
 anxious thought ; so absorbed was he, that 
 until another shadow lay before his feet, he 
 was unconscious that any one approached ; 
 he looked up, and old Hilda's querulous 
 voice saluted him with a "Good day, Master 
 Krantz." 
 
 " How now, dame, you and yon warbler," 
 pointing to the twittering bird above him, 
 " seem to have kept company up the hill ; 
 but welcome V 
 
 '* Ah marry," returned she, ^' ray old legs 
 do feel that even ground suits them best ; 
 but I have a good help here," holding up a 
 strong crutch to the miller's view. "It 
 supports me, and does not complain of an 
 old woman's company ; always ready at 
 hand, and never wearies or wears out as 
 we do. Master Krantz." 
 
 "Ah ah," replied Krantz smiling, ''no 
 doubt a steady, sturdy friend, but not much 
 
 d2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 JLLINOIS LIBRARY
 
 52 MAURICE, 
 
 ofacompanion for conversation; eh! Dame?'' 
 
 **AIas! master, I need not to talk nor 
 listen ; I have enough to think about; — and 
 sorry thought it be. Who cares for what 
 an old woman, and a poor one, has to say, 
 or to trouble her V 
 
 This was said so mournfully, that Krantz, 
 whose heart was tender, who knew how hard 
 poor Hilda's fate had been, for she had 
 seen more prosperous days, and had outlived 
 all she cared for, and was indeed alone, 
 poor and old, kindly said, " I do, Hilda, and 
 so do my wife and daughter." 
 
 ^^Ah ! God blessthem,''said the old woman ; 
 ^' often have they kept starvation from my 
 door ; and I will say, master, you have been 
 a kind friend to me." 
 
 Now this was the truth ; and Hilda was 
 sincere in her gratitude to those, who had 
 often soothed and relieved her ; yet the tone 
 in which she spoke, convinced the miller she 
 had some boon or assistance to crave, and 
 that such was her object in her early visit
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 53 
 
 to the mill. Thoug-h a good creature, she 
 was not devoid of cunning", — the weapon of 
 ignorance and a feeble understanding, — used 
 by the young to fill the void of sense, and 
 by the aged, to cover decayed intellect. 
 
 '^Come, Hilda, rest awhile in the porch, 
 and I will seek Theresa; for you shall not go 
 down the hill as you have come up — fast- 
 ing.''— Hilda^s eyes brightened, and she 
 composed herself on the bench, leaning her 
 hands across her crutch ; rejoiced to find 
 the miller for a few moments, previous to his 
 breakfast, at leisure, and in so kind a hu- 
 mour : truth to say, he was rarely otherwise. 
 Hilda looked down on the village, and 
 whether languor from fatigue, or that the 
 blooming morning and the peaceful scene 
 below, were contrasted in her mind with all 
 the sorrows she had known and witnessed, 
 in that now tranquil spot, or her own 
 deca in helpless poverty unnerved her, the 
 tears silently stole down her furrowed cheeks.
 
 54 MAURICE, 
 
 " Come, Dame/^ said Krantz, as returning 
 he offered his arm to assist her, '* the morn- 
 ing meal is ready, and will be none the less 
 welcome to us for your company.^' 
 
 ''Thanks, thanks, master Krantz ;'' and 
 indeed she was truly grateful for the ex- 
 change of the dry crust and water, which 
 her own scanty means would have given her, 
 for the fresh though homely loaf, sweet 
 butter, and new milk. *' And so, master, 
 thy Thumelda is away, and poor Konrad well 
 nigh broken-hearted. Poor youth \" 
 
 '' Dame/^ replied the miller, '' we will not 
 touch on that; Konrad has earned his punish- 
 ment." 
 
 " Ah ! well I have not seen him, and I 
 am glad of it; for,'' she added in a low and 
 sad tone, *' what good could I do him V 
 
 The breakfast was finished. 
 
 «'Well, Schultz," said Krantz rising, "it 
 is time we were on the move ; it is rent day 
 at the Castle, and I am willing to be the 
 first to offer the tribute by which I hold the
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 55 
 
 mill, as well as the first to return. — Come, 
 Dame, as you have had a long" toil this 
 morning, you shall take my place in the 
 cart.'^ The old woman looked uneasy. 
 ^*Why master,^' she said, *^I will wait awhile 
 with your wife. What have I to return to, 
 but an empty cottage, and the boards for 
 my bed ; if even a roof be granted, to shelter 
 my poor old head V' 
 
 *' How is this V said Krantz. 
 
 '* Alas P^ replied she^ " I cannot pay even 
 my small rent, and they say they will take 
 all, — that I may beg or borrow ; — that rent 
 or service they will have.*' 
 
 " And why, Dame, did you not say this 
 before ?" 
 
 *^ Shame! Master Krantz, shame ! to beg 
 of you, who were so kind to me in the 
 winter, when I could neither knit nor spin 
 to earn a few groschens.'* 
 
 *'Yet/^ said the miller, "you must have 
 come with some such intention."
 
 56 MAURICE, 
 
 "Perhaps 1 did, master, but I knew not 
 how to speak it." 
 
 ''Well, well," said Krantz, '' we must con- 
 trive to save you from this/' So saying, he 
 g-ave the old woman the small sum due for the 
 rent of her cottage, with a trifle beyond, and 
 seeing Schultz with the cart and its load at 
 the door, carefully placed old Hilda in it 
 with a loaf by her side, and pursued his way 
 to the Castle, making Hilda promise to keep 
 secret that he had aided her. He put her 
 down at a short distance from the Castle 
 gates, which he entered in order to perform 
 a most unwilling duty. Having delivered 
 his flour, he was directed to the hall to 
 receive his acquittance. Here were some 
 few of the vassals and retainers assembled. 
 
 In the centre was a long oaken table, 
 surmounted by substantial fare, — huge pies, 
 solid joints, boars* heads, flagons of wine 
 with foaming tankards. 
 
 The miller was not tempted to forego his
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY- 57 
 
 resolution never to partake of viand, or raise 
 a cup to his lips in the Castle; and having 
 received the acknowledgment that he had 
 delivered his tribute, he was quitting the 
 Castle yard, when the Baron issued from 
 a side portal ; his brow was more than 
 usually dark, as he turned to the miller, 
 and said sneeringly : "there goes an honest 
 man, who holds some of our broad lands, 
 and brings a bag of dust to blind us to his 
 gains/' 
 
 Krantz^s natural temper was impetuous, 
 but he was wise, and knew too well how much 
 depended on his forbearance. Respectfully 
 he removed his cap and said calmly : *'Sir 
 Baron, your forefathers willed it so, and 
 granted to mine an indulgence for service 
 which they believed claimed some reward. 
 Industry andlabourhave redeemed the small 
 grant from a barren waste, and rebuilt the 
 mill, the tribute from which I have, in rem- 
 embrance of such a boon, gratefully oflfered 
 anon. d ^^ .
 
 58 MAURICE, 
 
 "Tribute enough. Master Krantz, to make 
 cakes for the maidens' breakfasts to-morrow, 
 if perchance the keen air of the morning 
 doth not provide them with sharp appetites.'' 
 
 The Baron then haughtily moved on. 
 
 "Why, old sack," quoth the insolent Har- 
 torfF, who had followed in the Baron's wake, 
 as Krantz was retreating, " the noble Baron 
 is willing to make a butt of you, but I doubt 
 if such a one were broached, we should find 
 more skim milk than wine, more chaff than 
 either." 
 
 " If my stout arm. Lieutenant, be pro- 
 voked to disgorge from thy nose some of 
 the ruby tints acquired in its constant con- 
 tact with the wine cup, 1 marvel not but it 
 will improve the beauty of thy face." 
 
 As Hartorff's nasal organ bore strong 
 evidence of his attachment to the flagon, 
 and as he was a quarrelsome chap, who did 
 not hesitate to do his master's bidding, how- 
 ever foul the deed, the bystanders laughed 
 approval at the retort.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 59 
 
 "Go to, old sack, and mix some of your 
 hot blood with your chaflffor your supper; 
 we lack not such coarse fare here." 
 
 '' Hold thy peace, drunkard, or although 
 I am little disposed to it, I must match 
 my blows to your bandy leg's ; faith. 
 Master Hartorff, these good fellows might 
 mistake, that they were given in compli- 
 ment to them," responded the miller, looking 
 down upon Hartorff's misshapen supports 
 with contempt. 
 
 Another laugh, and the discomfiture of the 
 brawler gave the miller the opportunity of 
 passing the gates without further annoyance. 
 
 " Ah I'' he sighed as he slowly wound 
 his way up the hill, in his course home- 
 ward, '* how distasteful to me are now those 
 Castle walls, — the once happy scene of my 
 boyhood, — within whose precincts every do- 
 mestic joy was centered, within whose portals 
 dwelt all that was pure, all that was noble, 
 true and good ; where the aged were sue-
 
 60 MAURICE, 
 
 coured, the young encouraged, the erring re- 
 claimed, reproved, but not condemned, valour 
 and worth requited, and virtue rewarded. 
 Alas ! that all should pass away, and its 
 halls which once rang with the songs of 
 innocent mirth, should now echo the strains 
 of coarse revelry, and the boastings of dark 
 deeds, which honest men quail to hear of. 
 How mournfully do those banners, the en- 
 signs of birth, and the trophies of gallantry 
 wave their shadows over the riot of their 
 dissolute inmates. My masters, friends, 
 companions, and playmates, where are ye ? 
 Swept away as if Heaven, in its mercy, would 
 not leave one honest heart to break over the 
 desecration of its harbour and its home. Cas- 
 tle walls! I still venerate ye for the inmates 
 ye once held, and grieve that thus ye are de- 
 solated. Within your towers my infancy was 
 reared, my youth instructed by the generosity 
 of thy noble-hearted owner, who did not dis- 
 dain that the soldier's son should share with
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. (51 
 
 his own his graver studies and his leisure 
 hours, and in his generous gratitude, would 
 not believe, that ignorance was needful to 
 make a humble and a poor man an honest or 
 industrious one : gratitude, my honoured 
 patrons shall never cease to your memory, 
 while the poor miller's heart beats with 
 one feeble pulse of life." 
 
 Krantz's sad retrospections were inter- 
 rupted by the appearance of Ludwig de- 
 scending the hill. 
 
 "Well, master Krantz, hast been return- 
 ing thy compliments to the tankard at the 
 Castle ? Either thy head is stronger than 
 mine, the Baron's ale weaker, or the hum of 
 thy mill set mine a spinning, for to my fancy 
 the trees took a liking to the tune, and 
 danced me fairly off my legs.'' 
 
 '^None of these, my friend, but I never 
 trust my head with more than my legs can 
 help it to carry." 
 
 " Oh ! but with us soldiers," said Ludwig
 
 62 MAURICE, 
 
 drawing himself up, with an air of superi- 
 ority, "war and wine are twin brothers. 
 You do not want such grist to set your top 
 on the heath a twirling/^ 
 
 " I was a soldier once/' said Krantz with 
 a sigh, '^ but never found that wine braced 
 my arm, or relieved my fatigue/' 
 
 Ludwig looked at the miller with surprise 
 and more respect. 
 
 '^ Why hang it,^^ said he, *' I thought there 
 was something of the gentleman about 
 
 you." 
 
 Krantz smiled, and with a "good day'^ 
 and a nod left Ludwig to reconcile his for- 
 mer trade of war, his habits of sobriety, and 
 his present occupation as best he could. 
 
 Theresa's cheerful face and affectionate 
 smile awaited him, and while they were 
 eating their mid-day meal, she told her hus- 
 band that Ludwig on some pretence had 
 been loitering about the mill, — whether for 
 idleness, or to spy, she could not say, — but
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 63 
 
 although civil to him, she had given him no 
 encouragement to repeat the visit ; notwith- 
 standing he had hinted that the day washot, 
 the hill long, and the ale not unworthy a 
 soldier's notice, she did not offer him more 
 than a horn of beer. 
 
 "Thou hast acted with thine accustomed 
 prudence, Theresa ; I fear me 1 have con- 
 ducted myself less wisely." He then detailed 
 to her the events of the morning during 
 his short absence. 
 
 Some days passed on, and all things went 
 forward as usual. The stranger and Thu- 
 melda lightened the hours by occupation. 
 The gay temper and lively sallies of the lat- 
 ter, drew sometimes a smile from her com- 
 panion. Each day added some little comfort 
 to their abode, but they impatiently longed 
 to enjoy the fresh air, which could be but 
 scantily admitted, and only at night, through 
 the small concealed aperture, which Krantz 
 had more effectually hidden by twining some
 
 64 MAURICE, 
 
 ivy on that side of the house. The child too 
 lost its rosy hue and plump cheeks, and the 
 mothers' fears for its health, robbed her of 
 repose; but she uttered no complaint, well 
 assured of the devotion of those to whom she 
 had intrusted their safety. 
 
 Gantz had gathered at the villag-e, and had 
 accidently let fall to Schultz, that the Castle 
 was likely for a time to lose its gay revellers, 
 when they might with due caution at night 
 be released for a time. The miller was also 
 anxious to make another journey to the town, 
 in order to procure further requisites, but 
 feared to leave his precious charge. Schultz 
 would be a faithful substitute or messenger, 
 but his age could not supply activity in case 
 of need. Patience, therefore, for a time was 
 a necessity w^hich none of the party denied. 
 Krantz had seen nothing of Konrad ; he was 
 with his parents at the pastor's house he 
 knew, but the youth had made no effort to 
 seek those whom he had offended, and Krantz
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 66 
 
 gave him credit for the feeling that anger 
 against himself, and mortification at his own 
 folly had kept him away, and not resentment 
 towards those who had shewn him unvaried 
 kindness, and had been willing to trust their 
 child's happiness to his keeping. 
 
 The sun was just glancing its farewell 
 light on the distant hills, and Krantz was 
 watching its last rays ere it finally sank be- 
 hind the blue barriers which bounded the 
 prospect, when Konrad's light figure ap- 
 peared at some distance crossing the heath. 
 In a few minutes he was by his side. The 
 anxious expression of his countenance told 
 that his mind had been ill at ease. Krantz, 
 who loved the youth, kindly held out his 
 hand, which the other warmly took and said : 
 " Master Krantz, I have that to tell which 
 may create surprise to you and my good 
 mother Theresa; and perhaps may draw 
 further condemnation from your lips ; but 
 when I tell you, that I have the approval of
 
 66 MAURICE, 
 
 my parents for my course of action, I am 
 sure you will pause, ere you condemn the 
 step which I have taken." Krantz nodded 
 for him to proceed. "Accident/' continued 
 Konrad, *'led me some days since to join the 
 Baron in the chase; I was, perhaps, the 
 most successful in tracking and hunting" 
 down the game ; he warmly praised my wood 
 craft, and so entreated me to return with 
 him to the Castle, that neither in courtesy, 
 nor without making an enemy who is impla- 
 cable under any affront, could I refuse ; how- 
 ever reluctantly, I was compelled to comply. 
 He was condescending, nay, even as gra- 
 cious as a haughty man can be, but I left 
 the Castle without a wish ever to be again 
 his guest. I kept out of his way, but while 
 absent wandering on the hills was sent 
 for, then sought for, and found. He had 
 not, he observed, been much of late in this 
 part of the country, and added, that I knew 
 better the haunts of the game than his own 
 people, who in truth appear to me to be all
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 67 
 
 Strangers, and requested my assistance. 
 Hoping- this service would not be of long^ 
 continuance, with less reluctance I com- 
 plied. Much as I was disgusted with the 
 proceedings I witnessed at his board, I 
 gleaned a knowledge which determined 
 me to accept an offer, that he made me, to 
 accompany him to Magdeburg, whither he 
 is going to join Duke Maurice. Master 
 Krantz, he loves you not; you have thwarted 
 him in his lawless pursuit of my beloved 
 Thumelda. Aq honest man can find no fa- 
 vour in his eyes ; he thinks to practise on 
 my youth and inexperience, and mould me 
 as a companion to his taste ; but he little 
 knows the talisman of virtue which I wear 
 in my heart ; in my devotion to Thumelda ; 
 nor has he taken the trouble to inquire 
 into those principles which since my lips 
 could first lisp a prayer, have been instilled 
 into my mind. His associates are beneath 
 him in birth and education, and even he 
 has hours of lassitude which their ribaldry
 
 68 MAURICE, 
 
 cannot amuse. In gentle blood, I am far 
 beneath him ; in manly sports as in courage 
 his equal ; more than his equal in mental 
 attainments ; in the knowledge of arms, from 
 the peaceful life which I have hitherto led, 
 entirely his inferior. Thus I have drawn 
 the balance; my mad desertion of Thumelda 
 on that fatal morning at the village fete, has 
 left him in ignorance of our attachment, and 
 his people are too little loved, and too much 
 suspected, to be encouraged among our sober 
 neighbours." 
 
 ^'Suffer me, Konrad, to interrupt you ; be 
 not too confident in your own strength ; such 
 scenes of disorder, no doubt, at first will dis- 
 gust, but habit will familiarize them, and 
 ultimately you may be drawn into the vortex, 
 when, with less vigour, you nerve yourself to 
 stem the tide ; and why encounter this dan- 
 ger, which exposes your young imagination 
 to such temptation, and your virtuous mind 
 to such pollution?"
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 69 
 
 "Such thoughts, my kind monitor, believe 
 me, have presented themselves to me. I have 
 doubted my own strength, and have weight 
 ed well your arguments, not alone by the aid 
 of my own reason, but with the assistance 
 of my excellent father, and thus I aswer 
 them. Each day I have been more dis- 
 gusted with scenes uncongenial to my taste, 
 and which tome can never be otherwise; 
 they are utterly discordant with every feeling 
 of my heart, or principle of my mind. By 
 courtly scenes of fascinating dissipation, I 
 feel I might be shaken or seduced, but low 
 ribaldry, coarse jests, and rude manners, I 
 am as proof against as our knights in their 
 coats of mail are invulnerable to untempered 
 weapons. In mind and education, as I have 
 said, I am the Baron's master, and my object 
 is to remain so without his perceiving it. 
 You ask me, why I take this step ? First, 
 because I can better guard Thumelda if any 
 unforeseen mischance throws her in his way ;
 
 70 MAURICE, 
 
 next, because I may do you service, for his 
 haughty bearing and scowling* brow on the 
 rent day were not unnoticed, and there were 
 tongues to repeat the worsting his favorite 
 villain HartorfF got, when taking his mas- 
 ter's tone, he backed it by his insulting 
 jests ; and lastly, I feel that a peaceful life 
 is not the one to suit my ambition, remain- 
 ing an inactive burthen upon my parents. 
 He will, at any rate lead me into service, 
 where honour and renown may be found. 
 This, — no unworthy ambition, — if no other 
 motive impels me, will, I hope, save me from 
 any snares which he may place in my 
 path.'' 
 
 *^Konrad,*' said Krantz, " your reasoning 
 is specious, and would be sound, if maturer 
 age ensured your firmness ; but you have 
 chosen a rugged and dangerous pass for 
 your onset in life, and every step must be 
 carefully placed, if you would attain the 
 reward you promise yourself. Never for a
 
 THE ELECTOR OP SAXONY. 71 
 
 moment relax your vigilant watch over 
 yourself and him ; never place your head 
 upon the pillow until your acts and thoughts 
 shall have been as carefully scanned as a 
 miser's hoard ; and let the first warning that 
 you are deviating from the line of conduct 
 you have laid down for yourself, sound the 
 alarm ; need not a second warning, but fly 
 nor look behind, leave the battle where 
 victory is doubtful ; remember this, as you 
 value my regard, the mercy, and the protec- 
 tion of Him on whose power and might you 
 have been taught to rely." 
 
 The miller here reverently lifted the cap 
 from his head, while he raised his eyes to 
 that Heaven where thousands of the evidences 
 of the power of their Creator were shining 
 down upon them. 
 
 Konrad followed the miller's act of rever- 
 ence, and replied : ^' so will I do ; — and 
 solemnly, nightly, in weal or woe, not leave 
 one act unchallenged."
 
 72 MAURICE, 
 
 For a few moments both were silent, then 
 Krantz said, ''when do you goV^ 
 
 '* To-morrow, my friend ; may I not say 
 adieu to your wife V 
 
 Krantz briefly stated Konrad's purpose, 
 telling- Theresa he would inform her further 
 by and by, but Konrad's time was short, 
 and his parents could ill spare any portion 
 of his last hours with them. 
 
 '* Farewell, my kind, my first, my best 
 friends, remember me, and convey to my 
 beloved Thuraelda all that the truest, fondest 
 love can dictate.'^ An embrace of Theresa, — 
 a pressure of the miller's hand, — and Konrad 
 again crossed the heath, and bade adieu to 
 his second home.
 
 THK ELKCTOR OF SAXONY. 73 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 At an early hour of the morning", the Castle 
 was astir ; the Baron diligently inspected his 
 small band ; all the arras had been pre- 
 viously examined, and made fit for service, 
 helmets, cuirasses, matchlocks, spears, and 
 swords, polished from rust and stain, and 
 further orders issued for the renovation of 
 those not immediately required ; ten men 
 only were to be left for this service, and the 
 safe keeping of the Castle, besides a few 
 varletson the establishment. The courtyard 
 for three days preceding had presented a busy 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 74 MAURICE, 
 
 scene of preparation, everyone being* anxious 
 to secure the accoutrements most suited to 
 his taste or vanity, each vying with the 
 other to present himself at the final muster 
 as a well ordered man at arms. It required 
 some skill and patience to remove the wine 
 stains from their doublets, and cunningly 
 repair unsightly fractures. On the previous 
 evening- the muster roll had been called, 
 and after the men had been finally dis- 
 patched to their quarters, the Baron 
 sent for HartorfF. This HartorfF, as we 
 have said before, possessed a kindred 
 spirit with his master, who had selected him 
 from a robber-band, to attend him on his 
 marauding* expeditions. He was a bold and 
 fearless man, as reckless of bad deeds as of 
 danger; his person was a faithful index to 
 his character; his head was large, and 
 amply supplied with black shaggy hair, 
 which matched his swarthy visage, and 
 tallied with the dark and sinister expres-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 75 
 
 sion of his countenance ; unless aroused 
 out of caution by his passions, he rarely 
 lifted his eyes towards the persons whom he 
 addressed, but slyly scanned them askance 
 from under his pent brow; his prominent 
 features bore the marks of vicious dissipa- 
 tion and intemperance, he was high should- 
 ered, his arms long*, and his legs slightly 
 bowed. Although above the ordinary stature, 
 from his length of limb, he appeared taller 
 than the truth. 
 
 " Hartorff," said the Baron, " by the first 
 streak of morning-, we must prepare for our 
 march ; I have promised to join the Elector 
 with the least possible delay ; and although 
 it ill suits me to move at this time, I am com- 
 pelled to hasten my departure, and give the 
 aid required ; hitherto you have been the 
 companion of my dangers and my toils, but 
 on this occasion, for reasons of my own, it is 
 my wish to leave you here in charge; — at 
 '?ast lor a while.^' 
 
 E 2
 
 76 MAURICE, 
 
 During" this speech the Baron twirled his 
 moustache between his finger and thumb, 
 and looked mysterious. " If need arise 
 hereafter, you can join me, if, as I ex- 
 pect, I should increase the number of my 
 followers, and should require your services 
 as my lieutenant." 
 
 HartoriF stood for a few moments in sur- 
 prise, and then observed doggedly : *' Sir 
 Baron, when the leech administers a nau- 
 seous potion, he disguises the unpalatable 
 flavour with spices, or gilds the bolus; I 
 trust, if it be your pleasure that I shall sit 
 crosslegged to sun myself on the ramparts, 
 that you will leave a spinning wheel for my 
 leisure hours, that there may be no lack of 
 linen to bind the broken heads and limbs of 
 such of my comrades, as may chance to find 
 their way ba( k ; perhaps it would be as well 
 to swell your ranks with striplings and 
 women from the village, and leave such 
 useless lumber as myself to tend the hen-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 77 
 
 roosts, and sweep out the empty stables ; 
 perchance you think the warlike Konrad 
 a better sruard and fitter counseller than the 
 puny Hartorff.'^ 
 
 " Not so fast, HartorfF; I have told you 
 I have my reasons," (again resorting to his 
 moustache to £^ive additional weii^ht to his 
 speech); *' I doubt neither the strength of 
 your arm, nor your willingness to use it in 
 my defence, and in leaving you in command 
 over this stronghold,! place you in a situa- 
 tion many of your comrades will envy.'' 
 
 « Ask them," replied Hartorff; ^^'11 bet 
 a flagon you will not find a volunteer for 
 such a command. Command in truth over 
 ten men who can hardly draw a bowstring 
 that would send an arrow the length of their 
 shadows, with a craven set of menials who 
 have fattened on the savour of their own 
 grease pots and grains." 
 
 It was never the Baron's policy to rufile 
 his turbulent follower ; he observed there-
 
 78 MAURICE, 
 
 fore: "It may be allowed that the guard I 
 leave behind are somewhat feeble from recent 
 wounds and sickness, but this is a present ill ; 
 a short time, and they will be as fit to bear 
 arms as any I take with me ; with respect 
 to the youth Konrad, I require him for other 
 service/' 
 
 *^ Ah ! ah ! I suppose with his fair face 
 and smooth tongue, to decoy unwilling birds; 
 but I doubt he will be more likely to keep 
 the game he snares." 
 
 " I called you. Sir, to my presence," re- 
 torted the Baron sternly, *^ not to listen to 
 your jeers, — keep those for your equals, 
 — but to receive my orders and to test 
 your obedience, not your scurrility ; go and 
 learn to write, and Konrad shall be left 
 behind/* 
 
 Hartorflf loved to chafe his commander; 
 but it often happened that his domineering 
 did not answer his end ; cringing, unless his 
 assistance was immediately needed, was a
 
 THE ELECTOR OP SAXONY. 79 
 
 surer card ; he was not scrupulous in war, 
 nor as to the manner in which he lined his 
 doublet with gold, and as he loved the dissi- 
 pation of a camp, he had fully determined 
 to make one of the present expedition. 
 
 ^* It is enough to break a man's spirit/' 
 said he, *' to be thrust out of his post and 
 left in the rear like a disabled baggage- 
 waggon, and to don his night-cap instead of 
 his helmet ; who is to peer into the enemy's 
 camp? who is to find forage where the 
 country has been sacked for miles around ? 
 who is to entice recruits, and fit them for 
 the field, if Hartorflf is to be stuck on these 
 old Castle walls, like a spread jackdaw 
 nailed to a barn door to frighten away 
 small birds? there are few nobles or knights 
 who would gainsay Johann Hartorff, if he 
 cared to leave a commander whom he has 
 followed in many a hard pass, more than 
 Johann Hartorff wists to tell, or than that 
 commander mayhap would like to be known/'
 
 80 MAURICE, 
 
 *' True, Hartorff, I do not deny your quali- 
 ties as a soldier, therefore I put this trust in 
 you." 
 
 *' It is not a trust to my liking, Baron/' he 
 sullenly answered ; ^' amongst sixty, me- 
 thinks a fit man could be found to air himself 
 behind the battlements, peep at the church 
 steeple through the loop holes, dole out the 
 watch-word, or overlook the scouring of 
 rusty blades." 
 
 "But," rejoined the Baron, "you said 
 anon, all were as unwilling as yourself to 
 perform the office of seneschal." 
 
 " And so I did, of those who can draw a 
 sword, butit needs not to thin the troop of 
 one able man, to provide for defence where 
 there is no danger. There is that hair- 
 brained Ludwig, who got a fall last night 
 in a wrestling match with that Goliah 
 Schwartz, — after you had inspected the mus- 
 ter, and opened a new light to his under- 
 standing against the door post ; he will not
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 81 
 
 be sound and fit for service till that crack is 
 stopped up ; he is as proper a man as any 
 to keep company with bats and owls/' 
 
 Two motives prompted Hartorfi* to this 
 proposition,— his desire to be one of the 
 party, and his jealousy of Ludwig-, who, 
 although not in his confidence, stood well in 
 the Baron^s favour, from his cheerful ac- 
 tivity and ready courage. 
 
 " And where were you Hartorfi*,*' de- 
 manded the Baron, " when such idle pas- 
 times were permitted on the eve of our de- 
 parture V 
 
 "With you, Sir,^^ he quickly replied, 
 "assorting-, with the assistance of Hermann, 
 your harness for to morrow, — the last ofiice, 
 it seems, that you mean to require of Johann 
 Hartorfi-." 
 
 " No more parley ;" said the Baron ; " send 
 the leech to me, although I suppose Ludwig 
 has been attended to." — Hartorflf retired 
 chuckling within himself, that he had sped his 
 
 £ 5
 
 82 MAURICE, 
 
 bolt so successfully, for he pretty well knew 
 how the matter would end. 
 
 " Here, Sir Leech,^^ he said to the man of 
 drugs and plasters, ^^the Baron wants your 
 advice to determine whether a man will make 
 a better seneschal for having lost some of his 
 brains ; make haste, prithee, most worthy 
 compounder, forhis Mightiness is in no mood 
 to tarry, even if it be that you are about to 
 patch up a broken head-piece/^ 
 
 Having delivered his message, he de- 
 parted. 
 
 The person addressed was not by nature 
 loquacious, and returned no answer to the 
 scoffer, whose tongue was never idle, when 
 disagreeable news could be communicated, 
 or an insult could be offered ; but quickly 
 attended the Baron's summons, who address- 
 ed him: ''So, master Leech^ Ludwig has 
 been playing the fool, and has got a hurt." 
 
 '' He has, Sir.'* 
 
 '' Is it a bad one?*^
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 83 
 
 '* It is." 
 
 *' Will he be able to journey with us 
 to-morrow ?" 
 
 " He will not." 
 
 "How long^ ere he will be cured ?" 
 
 '^ Can^t say, no man can ; it is an ugly 
 hurt." 
 
 ''Will he die?" 
 
 '' No." 
 
 "Enough," and the man of few words re- 
 tired. 
 
 Hartorff was again summoned, and told to 
 prepare for to-morrow^s march; "and re- 
 member," added the Baron, " all immediately 
 to their quarters, and you, Hartorff, no 
 drinking* to-night." He then waved him 
 to retire. 
 
 Before it was light, Konrad left his home, 
 and presented himself for admittance at 
 the Castle gates ; he held a small valise in 
 his hand ; a few coins in his pocket were all 
 that his parents could spare from their wants.
 
 84 MAURICE, 
 
 His heart was sad ; he had entered on his 
 present course of life for the reasons he had 
 given Krantz, — to relieve his parents from his 
 maintenance ; and with the hope that fate 
 might favour him to better theirs, and his 
 own condition ; — but he felt none of those 
 buoyant aspirations which usually fill the 
 hearts of the young when they take their 
 first step in life to seek, by their own energies, 
 the road to fame and fortune. He had not, 
 he was well aware, one feeling in common 
 with those into whose association he had 
 entered ; in heart he felt he should live in 
 greater solitude than he had ever known in 
 his native village ; so grave and so sedate 
 was his manner,when he joined the troop now 
 assembling, that Hartorfi* observed, ^' the 
 Baron wanted a scribe, but he has got a pha- 
 risee into the bargain : — that in giving them 
 such a companion, he intended their march 
 to be a pilgrimage and penance/' He deter- 
 mined to impose one on Konrad, or give him
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 
 
 85 
 
 a chance of keeping- Ludwig- company, and 
 therefore selected the most unruly steed in 
 the stables for his use ; but his object was 
 defeated, for Konrad, having adjusted the 
 stirrups to his satisfaction, and inspected the 
 girths, caressed the animal gently, held the 
 rein loosely, and seated himself in the saddle 
 with as much ease and composure, as if 
 his charger had been accustomed to his 
 management, and knew his master. 
 
 The troop, with trumpets sounding and 
 banners waving, filed through the gates, 
 and winding- down the steep, crossed the 
 small stone bridge which was thrown over 
 the narrow stream, and were soon lost to 
 view in the winding- of the road. As they 
 journeyed on, Hartorff turned to Schwartz, 
 and observed loud enough for Konrad to 
 hear: " 'Tis carrying new coin to the Mint 
 to take with us this saint to our holy war ; 
 for my part, 1 would rather have the por- 
 terage of his relics at my saddle bow in the
 
 86 MAURICE, 
 
 shape of a skeleton head and cross-bones ; 
 however, he will work a miracle if he gives 
 our leader a taste for sanctity ; he is as coy 
 as a maiden just shorn after her vows; I 
 doubt if a popgun would not set his wits 
 flying* like the sparks out of his horse's 
 hoofs." 
 
 ^^ You hit him hard/^ replied Schwartz ; 
 *^ but it is behind his back, and he cannot 
 see his danger ; the youth rides well, you 
 must confess, for I know not one of us who 
 could keep that horse's temper and his own 
 under control at the same time." 
 
 ''Two bad thing's, I. wot,'^ rejoined the 
 other, '^ not worth the wear and tear of the 
 bridle that holds them.^^ But we must 
 leave the amiable HartorfT in order to re- 
 trace for awhile our way to the Castle. 
 
 Ludwig- was too sorely hurt to be con- 
 scious, for some days, of the departure of the 
 troop ; but when he began to recover from 
 the effects of his wounds, he was as miserable
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 87 
 
 as the lion mentioned in the fable, who sued 
 the mouse for his liberty, however, there was 
 no use in brooding- over his disappointment, 
 and he felt grateful to his laconic doctor, 
 when he gave him leave to quit his quarters. 
 The careful leech imparted to him the orders 
 left by the Baron, and that when sufficiently 
 recovered, he looked to him to be responsible 
 for the safety of his stronghold, Ludwig- 
 thought it probable that other duties would 
 be required of him less to his taste, but this 
 he did not think fit to communicate, he re- 
 served to himself the privilege (as he was 
 too ill, at the time his master left him, 
 actually to receive his instructions) of shap- 
 ing his conduct as he might feel inclined. 
 As soon as he was well enough to walk 
 with the assistance of a stick, he wandered 
 down to the village. The day was sultry, 
 and the wound became painful; he had loi- 
 tered on beyond the outskirts of the village, 
 when faintness compelled him to enter a
 
 88 MAURICE, 
 
 cottage by the way side ; this was the abode 
 of old Hilda. Liidwig staggered in, and 
 j9ung- himself on a low stool ; he was 
 scarcely able to ask for some water. Hilda 
 had no taste for the company of any of the 
 inmates of the Castle, and she concluded 
 that he must be one of them, as his appear- 
 ance did not bespeak the dusty garb of a 
 traveller ; humanity, however, conquered her 
 prejudice, and as she kindly i^ave what was 
 required, observed : — 
 
 *' Master, you seem to have had a bad hurt V 
 
 '* I have. Dame," he replied ; " I did not 
 wait for the dressing of my wound ; the day 
 is hot, and my head seems on fire ; I am in 
 great pain.'* 
 
 *^ You had better let me loosen the ban- 
 dage,'' said the old woman ; " I have been 
 used to such things, and in my day had no 
 bad character for my skill." 
 
 ''Anything, good Dame, for I shall never 
 be able to return if I do not get some relief."
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 89 
 
 Hilda immediately took some warm water 
 from the iron pot which was suspended 
 over the few embers required for the pre- 
 paration of" her pottage ; she carefully undid 
 the bandage, and bathed the wound which 
 had become partially inflamed from the 
 exertion of walking- and the heat of the day. 
 She left him for a few seconds, and then 
 returned with some simples which she in- 
 fused and applied, infinitely to his relief. 
 He felt grateful for the benefit received, 
 as well as for the kind and willing manner 
 of its performance. 
 
 "Troth, Dame/' he said, " when our leech, 
 yonder, dies from repletion of suppressed 
 words, thou shalt take his place." 
 
 "You have had a sad wound, Master, but 
 it has been well and carefully tended, or 
 you could not have travelled thus far so 
 soon." 
 
 "Nor have so good an appetite," re- 
 joined he, and he looked around wistfully.
 
 90 MAURICE, 
 
 saying-, '^As you have found such salutary 
 healing for the head, I wish you would 
 bestow some charity upon the stomach, or 
 verily, I believe I shall play og-re, and de- 
 vour the little children I may meet on my 
 way homewards/* 
 
 Hilda made no answer. 
 
 ** Well, but, good Dame, I have where- 
 withal to defray the charge of a crust of 
 bread and a horn of beer/' 
 
 " If I had it. Master, Hilda is not the one 
 to deny it, or sell her welcome, but the 
 lone old woman's fare your dogs would 
 spurn/' Thus saying, she placed a small 
 portion of stale black bread, and a can of 
 water on the table. Ludwig looked incre- 
 dulous, but the general appearance of po- 
 verty about the humble cottage, convinced 
 him that Hilda told true, and had offered 
 all she had. 
 
 ^* Dame, I am sorry I asked you, and that 
 my appetite mastered my discretion, but
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 91 
 
 get a better meal for the morrow," and 
 takini^ from his pocket a few kreiitzers, he 
 threw them on the table. 
 
 '^No, no,'* said Hilda, "I am poor, but 
 will not take money for a Christian's duty; 
 put up your coin ; though reduced to beg- 
 gary, I am no beggar ; no doubt Krantz will 
 be down from the hill to-morrow, and he 
 never enters Hilda's cottage empty-hand- 
 ed." Here was a spur to Lud wig's curi- 
 osity which he could not resist, spite of his 
 hunger. 
 
 " Oh ! they say yon miller is rich, and 
 can well spare from his abundance." 
 
 " They who say so, say not true," replied 
 the dame with energy; "he gives not from 
 a full purse, but from the abundance of a 
 generous heart." 
 
 '^ Oh ! he seems a favourite of yours." 
 '* And good cause have I to speak well 
 of him and his, for they do kindly by me, 
 and often pinch themselves, to give to their 
 poorer neighbours.''
 
 92 MAURICE, 
 
 " But they say that the mill is his own.^^ 
 
 "So it is/' she replied ; " and well was the 
 gift earned." 
 
 "How so, Dame?'^ 
 
 "Ah! it is a long* and a sad story^ but 
 it is time you were moving-, or methinks 
 you will lose a more savoury mess than 
 mine." 
 
 ^^Tiue, Dame; but I shall come again; so 
 good day and many thanks. '^ 
 
 Towards the evening of the next day, 
 Ludwig renewed his visit. "He had looked 
 in," he said, " to thank the dame; the leech 
 had been called away, and he should be 'grate- 
 ful for her furtlier friendly offices.^' Hilda 
 did willingly as she was asked. Ludwig in- 
 quired if Krantz had been there. He had, and 
 bad left her a loaf, which she was willing 
 to share with him as well as the portion of 
 pasty he had also brought for her. 
 
 " No ; many thanks. Dame ; I laid in my 
 forage before I started ; but favour me with
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 93 
 
 this long" story of which you spoke yester- 
 day/' 
 
 "True," said Hilda, nothing loth to find 
 a listener to her reminiscences. " You must 
 know, then, that years ago, before Krantz 
 was born, his father, then a youth, attended 
 the Baron Rodolf von Reiterstein to the 
 wars. He was a bold and faithful fellow, 
 and on more than one occasion, came be- 
 tween his master and death. The Baron, 
 on his return, gave him his freedom, a tract 
 of land on yonder chart, and the mill, which 
 was then but a poor concern ; he married; 
 the Baron built for him the cottage as you 
 now see it. Frederic Krantz, with the 
 savings from his own industry, improved the 
 mill, enclosed and cultivated a bit of his 
 land for garden, and throve as he deserved 
 to do, but could not put by. He had one 
 son spared to him ; his master was again 
 obliged to serve in the field, and nothing 
 could gainsay Frederic but he would go
 
 94 MAURICE, 
 
 with him. He did so, and while fighting by 
 his master's side, was badly wounded. The 
 Baron had him carefully tended and brought 
 to the Castle ; all was of no avail, he never 
 recovered, but lingered for some months, 
 and before he died, entreated his protector 
 to be kind to his boy, that he might not 
 g-row up in ignorance and wickedness. 
 Young* Krantz was then about six years old ; 
 the widow soon married again, and the 
 Baron, then, took the boy entirely into his 
 own care, and faithfully kept his promise to 
 his follower. He was about a year junior 
 to the young- heir, Lewis, who was then but 
 a weakly child. The two boys were com- 
 panions; as they grew to be lads, the attach- 
 ment between them increased ; if there was 
 a high tree to be climbed for birds' nests, or 
 mistletoe, Krantz was soon at the top ; if the 
 pony was restive in crossing- a pond, 
 Krantz would swim over with the bridle 
 round his arm ; but would rather risk his
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 95 
 
 limbs, than try his patience over his book. 
 This vexed the Baron, because of his word 
 given to the dying- father. When tired, the 
 young- Baron, Lewis, would sit down qn a 
 bank, and tell Krantz of many things he had 
 learned from the priest, so that by degrees, 
 he thought how pleasant it must be to know 
 so much, and for this, and to be more with 
 his young master, he tried to learn. When 
 they were well nigh men, the Baron Rodolf 
 took them to the wars, and it was said there 
 were not two braver lads ; but they grew 
 tired of this fighting trade, and returned, 
 after three years, to the old halls. The 
 young Lewis brought home with him a beau- 
 tiful wife, and Krantz soon after married 
 her favourite attendant, Theresa ; as his 
 mother and father-in-law had died during 
 his absence, he settled at the mill, but still, 
 every day he was at the Castle, Lewis 
 always making some excuse that he v. anted 
 him. So matters went on, the good Baron
 
 90 MAURICE, 
 
 Rodolf died ; a few months after, Lewis lost 
 his first born, a son ; this was a great grief, 
 and the Baroness often looked with envy on 
 Krantz's thriving boy ; in another year she 
 brought a daughter into the world, but lived 
 only three days after its birth ; poor Lewis, 
 never held up his head after this, for he 
 dearly loved his beautiful and good lady; 
 his only comfort was to talk of his troubles 
 to Krantz, and make him promise, if he 
 should die, to protect his child, and you 
 may be sure the other was ready enough to 
 do this ; a few months, and we all wept for 
 as good and kind a master as ever lived. 
 He was laid in the Castle chapel, and while 
 we were paying- our last duties to our be- 
 loved lord, the nurse and child disappeared. 
 Krantz was well nigh distraught, and swore 
 he would travel the country round day and 
 night, till he found her ; some say he 
 did, but that, in consequence, she was 
 removed, and although he was absent for
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 97 
 
 months, he could never trace her. It was 
 a sore and sorry time at the Castle ; then 
 the present Baron put in his claim as male 
 heir, and took possession of all," 
 
 " And who, do you suspect, Dame, took 
 the child away ?'' 
 
 " Whose interest think ye," said Hilda, 
 " was it to do so V 
 
 ^* A sad story/' said Ludwig, '^and poor 
 Krantz no doubt was sorry." 
 
 "Ah! marry, he was, he has never been 
 the same joyous creature since, he is always 
 thinking-, he seldom comes to the village if 
 he can help it, and never to the Castle, but 
 to bring" his yearly tribute. The old ser- 
 vants were all dismissed, the younger ones 
 left the place, and the priest was no longer 
 a welcome guest ; he quitted the Castle, and 
 has never since been heard of; it is supposed 
 that he returned to his monastery ; then some 
 say he was privy to the theft of the child ; but 
 I do not believe it, for he was the instructor 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 MAURICE, 
 
 of Louis and Krantz, and although a quiet 
 and reserved man, was much beloved, 
 always in the confidence of the Baron 
 Rodolf and his son, and was with them 
 both at the last awful hour ; the Castle after 
 Louis's death, was certainly no place for 
 one of his holy calling*. This is my story, 
 master." 
 
 '' And so there is a chapel in the Castle ?" 
 ''In truth there is, where our noble 
 Barons for generations have been bu- 
 ried, but they say, since the day of 
 Louis's funeral, it has never been opened. 
 Alack ! — little praying or preaching down 
 yonder, I reckon." 
 
 " And did you live in Rodolf's service?'' 
 '*In my youth I did, — there, — hard by in a 
 cottage by the garden wall, after I married 
 Schramm the gardener, and a happy home 
 we had." Here old Hilda wiped away a 
 tear ; Ludwig still looked inquiringly.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 99 
 
 " No, no, no more. Master." Her lips qui- 
 vered, and she motioned Ludvvig to leave her. 
 He saw that the old woman was pained and 
 troubled, and saying ''good day, thanks 
 Dame,'' quitted her. 
 
 f2
 
 100 MAURICE, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The departure of the Baron was a great 
 relief to the inmates at the mill. During 
 Ludwig's illness they had been free from 
 interruption ; in the still hours of night, 
 they could enjoy without fear of obser- 
 vation the clear atmosphere of the hill, 
 and repose in a more airy apartment. 
 Still Krantz was aware how irksome such a 
 life must be to Clotilda, for so we must 
 name his guest, and how inefficient all 
 their efforts, must be, even deeply interested 
 as they were in her fate, and fortunes, to while
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 101 
 
 away the tedious hours, fraught with constant 
 uncertainty, care and anxiety ; although 
 she found employment in attendance on her 
 child, and joy in its innocent caresses. Whilst 
 he slept, work with conversation filled up 
 the hours, for those upon whose fidelity she 
 had thrown herself, had been educated far 
 beyond their sphere of life ; Krantz had 
 shared advantages known to few in those 
 times, even among the higher ranks ; his 
 naturally fine understanding, innate good 
 breeding, and the respect he felt for her, 
 secured her from assumption and intrusion : 
 her gentle manners rendered them if possible 
 more zealous in her service, and more desi- 
 rous to chase away, by every delicate and 
 devoted attention, the uneasy thoughts 
 which invaded her mind, and the painful 
 reflections of how sorely she was beset by 
 danger. 
 
 The night was calm, the genial air hardly 
 perceptible, save from the gentle waving of
 
 102 MAURICE, 
 
 the branches of the weeping birch. The 
 heath was moonlit, and the gray-stone walls 
 of the miller's house were conspicuous in 
 the flood of "soft light. Here and there the 
 hollies and firs in the ravines cast their 
 lengthened shadows on the sloping banks 
 above, and gave the idea of depth and 
 intensity to these shallow groves. 
 
 ''How different/' observed Clotilda, "did 
 this heath appear on that tempestuous night 
 when despairingly I sought this friendly 
 shelter." 
 
 ** It has ever surprised me, lady," replied 
 Krantz, '* that so unused to hardship, you 
 were able to find your way through woods 
 and over this wild chart ; doubtless that pro- 
 vidence, who ever watches over the help- 
 less, guided your steps aright.'' 
 
 ''You say truly, Krantz, if I had been 
 inured to greater fatigue, or my venerable 
 guide had been spared to me, I should not 
 have reached your sheltering roof in such a
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 103 
 
 forlorn and exhausted condition : 1 would 
 fain know what has become of that good 
 monk, whom I left in the hut in the dark 
 forest ; he gave me the route so carefully 
 laid down for our guidance ; but for the 
 possession of such a direction, I never could 
 have found my way over these pathless 
 wastes. When I reached the heath amidst 
 the storm, my slender basket of provisions 
 was exhausted ; how often did I sink, spent 
 with exertion, and rise again in the renewed 
 hope of gaining the beacon light, which, 
 gleaming from your cottage windows, 
 greeted my eyes. I was consoled by reflect- 
 ing, that the violence of the tempest left me 
 alone on the heath to seek my asylum unob- 
 served amidst its terrors.'^ 
 
 ^' Your wish, lady, has been forestalled. 
 I sought the venerable guide of your steps, 
 but could learn no more from the woodman 
 than this, that after some days of sufi*ering 
 he left the forest in a very feeble state ; it
 
 104 MAURICE, 
 
 surprised me that he did not pursue his 
 journey hither, to assure himself of your 
 security, till better reasons for his not 
 doing" so presented themselves to me ; 
 doubtless he argued, so many days had 
 elapsed, that he might be assured you had 
 either reached us in safety, or that your 
 failure had involved you in some danger, 
 of which mischance it would be better to 
 give timely notice, to those who entrusted 
 you to his care ; he was a stranger to this 
 part of the country, and had given up to 
 you the only clue to guide his search ; en- 
 quiry would have been a finger post to your 
 retreat ; perhaps,^^ he added, ^' he took the 
 wiser resolution of returning to Augsburg." 
 
 " Your conclusions are ever just, my kind 
 Krantz, what do I not owe to your constant 
 vigilance and forethought ?" 
 
 '^ Alas ! fair lady, hitherto my endeavours 
 have been but feebly seconded by my suc- 
 cess, for believe me I hold my life at little 
 price in your defence/*
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 105 
 
 " Look ! look \" cried Thumelda in alarm, 
 '* surely some object moves in the front of 
 yonder clump of firs/' 
 
 The miller's attention, also, was now 
 anxiously fixed upon a dark figure advanc- 
 ing- into the moonlight. '^In ! in !" he ex- 
 claimed, starting up and drawing Theresa 
 to his side, in order to cover the retreat of Clo- 
 tilda and Thumelda ; '^ now follow Theresa, 
 and secure the entrance to the chamber, but 
 return quickly. '^ The figure still came slowly 
 onward, and was but a short distance from 
 them when Theresa returned. A man in 
 holy garb stood opposite to them, the cowl 
 which covered his head, nearly concealed his 
 face, as his sable cloak did his figure. 
 " Peace be to your house,'^ he said, and 
 letting fall his cowl, discovered the person 
 whom Krantz most desired to see. The 
 miller for a moment was overcome, — then 
 moved forward, and pressed warmly the 
 monk^s hands. 
 
 F 5
 
 106 ' MAURICE, 
 
 *' Welcome, most welcome, Father Augus- 
 tine ; how grateful your presence is to us, I 
 have not words to tell/' 
 
 " And yet, my son^ I have no good tidings 
 to communicate; but where is Clotilda? 
 surely from yonder copse, I saw more than 
 two figures moving in front of your cottage." 
 ** Truly you did, good father ; the lady 
 Clotilda is here and safe, but I fear I have 
 been rash, even at this late hour, to venture 
 my permission that she should leave her 
 hiding place." 
 
 *' Not so, good friend ; anxiously have I 
 watched, from yonder dell, the deepening 
 shades of night with the gradual disappear- 
 ance of the lights in the Castle and village. 
 When I deemed that I might approach in 
 safety for you and her, I left my lair, and 
 intense interest aided my sight. This is not 
 the wayfarer's path, but I feared my appear- 
 ance by daylight might cause idle specula- 
 tion in your household.'' 
 
 " What news, my good Father ?''
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 107 
 
 *'The guide," he replied, ** to whom I ea- 
 trusted Clotilda and her child, returned to me 
 in sorry plight. No doubt she has communi- 
 cated the misfortune of his sickness, and that 
 he feared to detain her with him until his 
 recovery, he wisely determiaed when he could 
 travel, on seeking me at Augsburg, where our 
 convocation was then sitting. The assem- 
 bly is broken up for a time ; Maurice, as you 
 know, invests Magdeburg for the Emperor, 
 but still presses for the release of his father- 
 in-law, the Landgrave of Hesse ; I doubt not 
 he has his own game to play as well ; he will 
 claim latitude for those of your persuasion ; 
 he also fears the Emperor's love of power, and 
 his desire to subjugate the rights oftheElec- 
 tors ; all is war and contention ; noplace is se- 
 cure from its oppression and manifold evils. 
 Alack a day ! that civil discord should thus 
 tear the heart of this unhappy country, and 
 that Christians who declare themselves the 
 followers of Him whose gospel preacheth
 
 108 MAURICE, 
 
 peace and mercy, and whose deeds, while He 
 inhabited this earth for the sanation of man- 
 kind, were clothed in charity, should thus, 
 like voracious beasts of prey, live by blood 
 and rapine, and sacrifice thousands of those, 
 over whom destiny hath given them command, 
 to their mad ambition ! Fearful will be the 
 reckoning of those who thus lead blindfolded 
 into the pit, the herd delivered by our Great 
 Shepherd into their keeping ! heavy the ac- 
 count they will have to render for the 
 thousands sent by them to their gory beds, 
 unrepented and unshriven, in the prime of 
 life, and in the fullness of their sins !" and 
 here the good man crossed himself, and 
 offered an inward prayer for those, thus 
 misleading and misled ; " but I must turn/' 
 he added from such harrowing scenes, '' tell 
 me how fare matters at the Castle V 
 
 Krantz then detailed the events already 
 recorded, and also the Baron's departure. 
 
 '^And whom goes he to slay V demanded 
 Augustine.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 109 
 
 ''Report," replied the miller, *^says he 
 goes to aid Maurice, but I fancy his sword 
 will flash where most gold can garnish its 
 scabbard, and friend and foe will be laid 
 under contribution on the march. He takes 
 with him sixty good men at arms, with the 
 hope of increasing his troop as he journeys 
 onward. Hartorfi' his lieutenant is next to 
 himself in command." 
 
 *' And whom has he left here as Senes- 
 chal ?" 
 
 ** One Ludwig, who was disabled by an 
 accidental wound, the evening before his 
 departure." 
 
 *' Ludwig say ye? has he been long in the 
 Baron's service ?" 
 
 " I rather think he has from a boy." 
 
 ''Enough,'^ said the monk, "and nowto the 
 Lady Clotilda, I have much to say to her, 
 and must leave you early in the morning." 
 
 Without delay they adjourned to Clotilda's 
 chamber, Theresa going forward to prepare
 
 110 MAURICE. 
 
 her for the monk's approach. She rushed to 
 his arms, and for some moments was inca- 
 pable of uttering those enquiries, which her 
 heart yearned to make. The monk gazed 
 with fond pleasure at her and her child. 
 Krantz retired, for he was aware she might 
 be restrained by his presence from asking 
 many questions which she would fain pro- 
 pose. We will not detail the conversation, 
 or forestal that which must be reserved for 
 another part of this history .We are not under 
 this restriction as regards Augustine's com- 
 munication with Krantz. '^ You must be 
 prepared my friend," he said "to travel with 
 your charge at a moment's warning; be ready 
 therefore with such apparel as may screen 
 you both from observation. I will give you 
 notice on my arrival at Magdeburg, if such 
 a step should become necessary ; should it 
 be out of my power to do so, I must leave 
 it to your sagacity, to take such measures 
 upon the spur of the moment, as may seem
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. Ill 
 
 best to you. Your slender means have been 
 of late largely taxed, and I fear that 
 your resources are low ; if your departure 
 from hence should be expedient, conceal 
 these gold pieces about your person, and 
 make over to Clotilda also, some portion of 
 them in case of accident." He then laid a 
 bag of coin upon the table : it was evident 
 that this was an undesired gift to the miller, 
 but the monk added — * 'Remember this loan 
 or gift is for Clotilda's use ; scruple not 
 therefore to accept it, I would wish the 
 child should be left in Theresa's charge, if so 
 it can be managed." 
 
 ** I know not how this can be,^^ replied 
 Krantz, '' as all, for miles around, know 
 that my children are unmarried, and that 
 within many leagues I have no relation 
 who would require at my hands the care 
 of such an infant, neither am I sure 
 that this asylum would be a safe one.'^ 
 
 " Nor can I afford a safer,'' observed the 
 monk, *^in these times of religious feud."
 
 112 MAURICE, 
 
 The miller mused, ^' There is one in our 
 village most fit for such a trust.*' 
 
 '* And who is he V 
 
 ^* Our good pastor ; he can be relied upon ; 
 he is so ill off, that I am sure he would 
 willingly undertake the charge, but as he is 
 a man so conscientious with respect to 
 truth, that neither threats nor torture would 
 draw equivocation from him, and also too 
 simple to guard against deception, it were 
 better to tell him no more than is absolutely 
 requisite, and in telling thatlittle, to bind him 
 to secrecy ; he will never betray that which 
 maybe intrusted to him; but how to manage 
 this, or induce the mother to part with her 
 child, I cannot counsel.'' 
 
 "Leave that to me," replied the monk, 
 " the latter will be the more difficult task, 
 but Clotilda's love for her boy must be 
 my weapon of attack upon her feelings. 
 I must forego my intention of departure 
 for a few hours, and devote the morrow
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 113 
 
 to this purpose. Now, good Krantz, I will 
 repose awhile ; two hours will suffice for 
 this refreshment. I shall leave Theresa 
 and yourself to pave the way for the se- 
 paration I must propose, and which it 
 sorely grieves me to enforce." — By the first 
 tint of dawn his pallet was empty, — the 
 miller had replenished his scrip.
 
 114 MAURICE, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LUDWIG, whose idle hours were many, and 
 whose curiosity was of a weedy growth, 
 like vegetation on uncultivated land, felt 
 a strong desire, after the story recounted 
 to him by Hilda, to visit the Castle chapel : 
 he was by no means exempt from the su- 
 perstition of the age, to which even his su- 
 periors in birth and education, in those 
 times were wont to yield; he would fain 
 have procured an associate to accompany 
 him in this inspection of the sanctuary for the
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 115 
 
 dead ; but the consciousness that a feeling 
 of awe, not totally unallied to fear, im- 
 posed upon him this desire for companion- 
 ship, probably disinclined him for some 
 time to make an application to any of his 
 comrades to bear him company ; or after he 
 had done so, to one of them unsuccessfully, 
 to hazard a second refusal ; for the one to 
 whom he did make this proposal answered ; 
 "Not I, master Seneschal, for who 
 knows but those grim old knights, who 
 they say lie there, may take huff at our 
 visit without an invitation, and stalk out of 
 their tombs ; or some of the buried monks 
 may rise from their stone coffins, to reproach 
 us for our misdeeds, and perhaps carry us 
 off at once into purgatory, without giving 
 us time for an Ave Maria. No, no, my 
 good friend, face the hobgoblins by your- 
 sjelf, and if, as I fancy you lack a screw to 
 your courage, stay away. I warrant me 
 the noble company there will go on sleeping
 
 116 MAURICE, 
 
 as comfortably as they have done for long 
 years past, without your whistling a fearful 
 dirge over them ; I have no taste for mouldy 
 walls and cross-legged knights ; I would 
 ten to one rather look at a tailor perched 
 upon his board, than on one of those marble 
 gentlemen ready booted and spurred, as if 
 prepared for a start." 
 
 Ludwig regretted that his request had 
 been proffered to so unwilling a comrade, 
 for he was a brave fellow, and could not 
 brook to hear his name thus coupled with 
 fear, nor were the suggestions offered by 
 the other, calculated to encourage him to 
 the exploration of this long neglected recep- 
 tacle for mortality ; if he did not now go, he 
 knew the laugh would be against him, and 
 if he did, he felt that the gratification of his 
 curiosity would be dearly bought by the 
 terror he might experience ; and yet he re- 
 flected, ^' How foolish to mind this prating 
 fellow, who carries more wine than wits in
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 117 
 
 his head : what is there to fear from stone 
 effigies? The bones lyingbeneath must have 
 been dust long since ; but then ag-ain spirits 
 do not require bones or sinews to set them 
 walking : but what have they to do with me? 
 I am not their next of kin, the Baron might ; 
 feel some qualms ; this perhaps may be 
 the reason which causes the respectful dis- 
 tance at which he keeps from the holy place. 
 But they may not choose perchance such a 
 sinner as myself to invade their precincts. 
 'Never mind,' quoth courage, 'the chapel 
 door may be left open, and I can retire if I 
 find the company inclined to be communi- 
 cative, disposed to take a turn with me, or 
 meet me half way ; and then again I shall 
 have the laugh against that stupid fellow." 
 It was a relief to him, however, when he 
 further bethought him that in all proba- 
 bility the door of the chapel would be lock- 
 ed, and that this fact at least would excuse 
 him to his companions, without impeach-
 
 118 MAURICE, 
 
 ment of his courage for returning without 
 having fulfilled his design; he therefore 
 proceeded with a stout heart round the 
 ramparts, to that part where the chapel 
 was situated, and pushed at the door, which 
 partially resisted his attempt. He paused 
 for a few seconds ; but he was determined 
 to record more than one or two efforts to 
 gain admittance, besides the difficulty also 
 prompted him to another trial. He essayed 
 again the iron bound door, which yielded 
 more readily than he had looked for, so that 
 he nearly measured his length over the sill. 
 When he recovered his balance, he was 
 surprised ; for he did not anticipate so easy 
 an entrance, nor expect to find from its 
 external appearance an edifice of such 
 extent. It was of some depth, and admit- 
 ted in breadth, side aisles. The clustered 
 columns were light and airy, and supported 
 in just proportion the gothic arches. Up 
 the middle aisle, between the columns, re-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 119 
 
 posed the ancestors of the Reiterstein fa- 
 mily, and monuments erected to the memory 
 of its crusading heroes, whose bones were 
 left to whiten on the sands of Syria. Their 
 tattered banners hung listlessly over those 
 neglected sepulchres of mortality, surmount- 
 ing the tenantless helm, cuirass, and 
 emblazoned shield. Ludwig proceeded to 
 the chancel, where two monuments of more 
 recent structure, and whiter hue, attracted 
 his notice. The one to the last Rodolph 
 represented that warrior sketched at length 
 in his coat of mail ; on one side knelt a fe- 
 male with her face upturned in an attitude 
 of prayer, her arms crossed over her bosom ; 
 on the other a youthful belted knight, his 
 unmailed right hand was grasped within that 
 of the recumbent figure, while that of the left 
 arm was supported on his bent knee, the 
 open palm partly concealed the upper portion 
 of his face ; the fingers were passed through 
 his disordered hair, the whole figure was
 
 120 MAURICE, 
 
 expressive of deep sorrow. Opposite to this, 
 was another tomb, evidently by the same 
 artist; the young* knight in a loose neg- 
 lected dress, was depicted in all the agony 
 of grief, leaning" with straining eyes over a 
 female figure, as if to assure himself of the 
 dreadful reality, that she whom he loved 
 best, lay there in the still attitude of death. 
 A young child was lying upon, and encir- 
 cled by her arm ; a flower with a broken 
 stem was held in the delicately chiselled 
 fing-ers of her other hand. These monu- 
 ments were evidently of Italian workman- 
 ship, the groups were exquisitely wrought in 
 the purest marble ; and even the unlettered 
 youth who now gazed on the mournful 
 sculptures, was absorbed in the contempla- 
 tion of their beauty ; they represented the 
 sorrows of life, their loveliness was not im- 
 paired by the stern lines of its vices, or 
 any of the horrors attending its extinction. 
 What surprised him most was, that achaplet
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 121 
 
 of fresh wild mountain flowers adorned this 
 tomb, magnificent in its simplicity : above it 
 none of the evidences of mortal passion, and 
 of mortal strife waved their dusty plumes 
 and decaying" remnants; the tinted lig-ht from 
 the glass windows above, played with flick- 
 ering caprice over the pale efiigies below, 
 imparting at times the hues o^ bloom and 
 existence like the mixed and varied changes 
 of life, then left these cold representations 
 of the dead in the same calm repose as their 
 enshrouded tenants ; the tendrils of the 
 ivy waved to and fro across the side case- 
 ments, throwing their fantastic shadows 
 over the pavement. 
 
 A dead silence, save from the breeze 
 playing among these unbidden parasites, 
 and the long grass, which found a bed 
 among some of the decaying buttresses, 
 pervaded the building. The untutored sol- 
 dier felt subdued by the tranquil holiness of 
 the place. He was suddenly aroused by 
 
 VOL I. G
 
 122 MAURICE, 
 
 the shutting of the chapel door, which re- 
 sounded in long echoes through the build- 
 ing*. He turned sharply round ; there was 
 no wind to have caused the door to slam 
 with such violence; he thought that some 
 of his companions perhaps had closed it in 
 joke, in order to scare him from his scru- 
 tiny ; he was proceeding down one of the 
 side aisles, when a dark object advanced 
 from behind one of the columns, and arrest- 
 ing his arm as he was in the act of flight, 
 whispered his name. Terror now took pos- 
 session of the hardy soldier, and his face 
 was as colourless as those of the statues 
 upon which he bad been gazing. 
 
 *' Fear not ! good youth," said the figure, 
 *'it is a living man who addresses you ; the 
 inmates of these chapel walls will never 
 again re-visit this earth ; their mortal re- 
 mains have long since been decayed ; their 
 spirits are, I trust, in those realms of im- 
 mortality where corruption of' body or soul
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 123 
 
 may never enter. I would speak with you 
 where none will venture to interrupt us.'* 
 
 Ludwig bovved assent, for he had not yet 
 sufficiently recovered from his panic to find 
 words for reply. 
 
 '^ Enough !" said the monk, " follow me.'' 
 
 The young soldier did as he was ordered ; 
 the monk proceeded slowly up to the altar, 
 and turning, said solemnly, "now swear 
 that you will never reveal this interview, 
 nor anything which I may communicate to 
 you on this spot!" 
 
 " I do swear," said Ludwig, in a voice 
 still tremulous. 
 
 *"Tis well : remember you that some 
 years since a priest rescued you from the 
 battle field, where you had been left for 
 dead, attended you in your sickness, and 
 healed your wounds?" 
 
 " Indeed I do, holy Father, and to that 
 good man I owe my life, and the know- 
 ledge of the only virtuous precepts I ever 
 heard." g 2*
 
 124 MAURICE, 
 
 "And does gratitude still warm your 
 heart to that priest ; would you serve him 
 if you could, follow his counsel, and obey 
 his bidding?" 
 
 " Indeed I would, and glad should I be 
 to render him some service for all that he 
 then did for me. Many a dreary day and 
 night did he watch by my miserable pallet, 
 finally restored me to health, and when I no 
 longer needed his assistance, and could go 
 forth in strength, supplied my wants with 
 more than sufficient means to bear me on 
 my journey, until I could join my com- 
 mander. For his sake I have kept one of 
 those coins, and here it is ;'^ at the same time 
 he displayed a gold ring and piece of money 
 which were suspended by a small cord be- 
 neath his doublet. "We soldiers. Father, 
 are somewhat superstitious, and I had a 
 fancy that this coin, received from so holy 
 a man, would bring me good luck." 
 
 Hitherto Ludwig had not seen the face
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 125 
 
 of his mysterious companion, but the monk 
 now threw back the hood of a large dark 
 cloak in which he was enveloped ; and in 
 him Ludwig recog-nised the only person who 
 had ever been to him a real friend and pre- 
 server. He fell on his knees before him, 
 and said, "Holy Father your blessing, I 
 have ill deserved it, but do not deny it me, 
 I pray/' 
 
 *'Nor will I, my son," he replied, and lay- 
 ing his hands upon his head, he repeated 
 a short but fervent prayer, then added, 
 "now remember, Ludwig, you are upon 
 your oath ; I shall confide to you a charge 
 which you must watch over, and shield 
 from harm ; meet me before day- break, un- 
 der the clump of trees on the other side of 
 the stone bridge. I shall deliver into 
 your care a young child, also a sum of 
 money ; take both to the pastor's house ; 
 simply tell him that a stranger delivered 
 them into your hands, to be conveyed to
 
 126 MAURICE, 
 
 him ; — that he must rear the child with 
 care ; ask no questions ; answer none ; and 
 say that a yearly stipend, exceeding his own 
 poor income, will repay his trouble. A. 
 cross will be found marked on the child's 
 arm.'^ 
 
 "And why not, holy father, do this er- 
 rand yourself? I fear the pastor will not 
 willingly receive a ward at my hands/^ 
 
 '* Ask not my reasons why I would that 
 my presence in this neighbourhood should 
 not be known. You can truly state that 
 you know nought of the child, and that its 
 welfare concerns those whom he most 
 values.'' 
 
 " But, good father, as you have proved 
 yourself no ghost, how came you here unob- 
 served, for you must have passed the Castle 
 gates V 
 
 '* Again I say, ask no questions ; I shall 
 quit this place as I came, unseen by any 
 but yourself/' He now descended the altar
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 127 
 
 steps, preceded Ludvvig- to the door of the 
 chapel, and bidding hira adieu, closed it 
 after him, remaining himself behind. 
 
 Ludvvig paced the ramparts for a time, in 
 order to collect his bewildered thoughts, and 
 to reflect upon what he had seen and heard, 
 but to him it was all a mystery. How the 
 monk could have obtained admission into the 
 chapel, and his object in placing such confi- 
 dence in him? however, as the more he pon- 
 dered over these things, the more he was 
 puzzled, he bent his steps leisurely to the 
 hall, where he found his comrades in full oc- 
 cupation over a goodly pasty and tankard. 
 
 " How now!'' cried Johann, '' what news, 
 worthy seneschal, do you bring from your 
 pilgrimage ? the dumb gentry I reckon 
 have let you have all the talk to yourself. 
 Their spirits do not seem to have bright- 
 ened yours, for you look scared as a cat in 
 the water. Has your appetite gone to look 
 after your wits?"
 
 128 MAURICE, 
 
 Ludvvig" might truly have answered that 
 it had. 
 
 '^ Come, come, my good friend, a horn of 
 beer, you, Johann, if I judge rightly from 
 its appearance have kept your wit for a cut 
 at that venison pasty, and now my adven- 
 tures shall profit you in a piece of advice; 
 never play the fool as I have done, and pry 
 into that chapel.'^ 
 
 They now clamoured to know what he had 
 seen, and what he had heard, but Ludwig with 
 a solemn tone and air repeated his injunc- 
 tion, remarking, that it was not permitted 
 to tell dead men's tales, and that if he could 
 do so, they would repent their ill-timed curi- 
 osity, and that the Castle would no longer 
 be an agreeable residence for them ; then 
 rising from the board, he said, ** it is time 
 to relieve Brandt at the gates ; the standing 
 sentinel over them is, I must confess, a 
 dull duty although not a heavy one.'' 
 
 Leaving his companions to all the con-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXOXY. 129 
 
 jectures and terror to which his peculiar 
 manner had g^iven rise, and which would 
 eflfectually prevent their making any at- 
 tempt to visit the sacred precincts, he 
 sought Brandt, and addressing him, said, 
 *' It is time that you were relieved, or those 
 fellows will lighten the labour of digestion 
 for you. Is the leech returned ? has any 
 one been from the village?" 
 
 "No one," answered Brandt, "I believe 
 we are the only living beings hereabouts ; 
 they must have all died suddenly down 
 yonder." 
 
 "Strange," thought Ludwig, '^ how could 
 he get into the chapel ? perhaps." he con- 
 tinued aloud, " the sultry weather has made 
 you sleepy Brandt, and you saw not, be- 
 cause your eyes were shut." 
 
 "Think you they could come through 
 the key-hole, or like witches fly over the 
 battlements on broom-sticks ?" 
 
 Punctually, according to the priest's de- 
 
 G 5
 
 130 MAURICE, 
 
 sire, Ludwig, ere it was light, awaited him at 
 the spot appointed. 
 
 Krantz had so clearly shewn to Clotilda 
 how deeply her child's preservation and her 
 own were involved in a temporary sepa- 
 ration, that, amidst tears and fond caresses, 
 she at last consented to place him in the 
 priest's arms, at the same time carefully 
 covering him from the night air ; and before 
 he was delivered to Ludwig, he was in a 
 sound sleep. 
 
 *^ I must away, Ludwig," said the monk, 
 ^' you await here for a time. The pastor 1 
 know rises with the sun ; an hour, and 
 morning light will relieve you from your 
 sleeping burthen, but remember your oath, 
 and as you hope for Heaven's mercy, do not 
 break it. Here is gold to ratify our com - 
 pact ; you may need it, I know well that 
 you have been a careless trustee of your 
 own fortune.*' 
 
 ^'Father, 1 will not receive your gold ; you
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 131 
 
 have my oath and my gratitude, I will 
 barter neither. Many a reckless deed I 
 have done for that dross, but this shall not 
 be added to the catalogue. If you still fear 
 to trust me, take back the boy, and seek 
 another, in whom you can better confide, 
 to deliver him safely/' 
 
 The priest replied mildly, '' I do not doubt 
 you, young" man, nor offer you this purse as 
 a bribe to the secrecy which you have al- 
 ready sworn. Keep it to use in my service ; 
 if such I should not require, I will again 
 exact it from you. Here is the bag like- 
 wise containing the good pastor^s hire, fare- 
 well ;" and his receding figure was soon lost 
 among the dark trees. 
 
 Ludwig carefully stowed the purse and 
 bag of money in his doublet, and folding 
 the child in his cloak, sat for a while watch- 
 ing, with impatience, the dawn. 
 
 He then slowly pursued his way to the 
 village, happily found the pastor already
 
 132 MAURICE, 
 
 risen, and enjoying in the porch of his 
 small dwelling the freshness of the early 
 morning. 
 
 Ludwig briefly told his tale, and laying 
 the boy upon the good man's knees, and 
 placing the bag of coin by his side, depart- 
 ed as quickly as he could, without waiting 
 for reply or objection. He had drawn his 
 slouched hat over his eyes so as to shade, 
 his features, as much as possible, and the 
 astonished pastor could not certainly have 
 identified the donor of such deposits. 
 The commission had been little to Ludwig's 
 taste, and most heartily rejoiced was he 
 when the business was concluded, for how- 
 ever deeply he might feel grateful to the 
 priest, he had no desire for his presence, if 
 it brought with it such onerous duty. His 
 gratitude towards the good man was sin- 
 cere, but it was evident to him, that his em- 
 ployer did not feel perfectly assured of his 
 trustworthiness.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 133 
 
 He had made him merely the blind agent 
 Id whatever plans he might be purposing to 
 execute, and however disguised by words 
 was the object of the gift, he could only look 
 upon the purse of money as a bribe, and 
 felt somewhat irritated at the suspicion im- 
 plied. But had his career hitherto deserved 
 a more favourable opinion ? He could not 
 say it had. Both his commander and his 
 lieutenant Hartorflf bore arms for any who 
 would hold out the fairest hopes of pay or 
 plunder, nor did they confine themselves to 
 open war, they levied their exactions on 
 their own account, either in peace or war ; 
 town and village were alike subjected to 
 their predatory excursions : the traveller 
 did not always, if known to be well sup- 
 plied with gold or jewels, escape their rapa- 
 city : and his comrades, were they not all 
 of the same stamp, pursuing the same 
 lawless courses? When he summed up 
 these cogitations he came to the conclusion
 
 134 MAURICE, 
 
 that in the priest's situation, he should not 
 have confided in him (Ludwig-) at all, and 
 that either the holy father was not a pru- 
 dent man, or that he was in a strait for 
 some more trust worthy person to aid him, 
 or perhaps he had discovered some latent 
 seeds of virtue in him. This last idea was 
 more soothing to him, for although he began 
 his reflections in his own favour, he ended 
 them by his own condemnation. 
 
 On his return, he proceeded to the chapel, 
 but the door w^as fast, and no exertion on 
 his part, had the slightest effect to move it. 
 It was clear then that the priest must have 
 preceded him there, but we will leave him 
 to his duties, and follow for a while the 
 march of the Baron and his troop.
 
 THE ELECTOR OP SAXONY. 135 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Baron rode on for some miles in silence, 
 and Konrad felt as little desire to interrupt 
 his moody meditations as to join in with, or 
 to be the subject of HartorfF's, sneering and 
 coarse jests. This worthy, however, was 
 not easily repulsed when he thought he had 
 the power of annoyance. 
 
 " Verily, Master scribe," said he addres- 
 sing Konrad, *' I fear your smooth face may 
 bring our characters into disrepute. Our
 
 136 MAURICE, 
 
 Baron, before our march, should have pro- 
 vided you with cuirass and cap of steel, or 
 a shaven crown and cowl, if he thoug-ht to 
 pass you as one of our sex ; we shall be 
 suspected of having levied a tithe in kind on 
 some nunnery in our way, and be cited be- 
 fore the Holy Fathers." 
 
 '4 have an arm, friend," retorted Konrad, 
 '* which will make the rough speech of those 
 who say so smoother than my face, and 
 teach them that I can be an able squire 
 at denting a cuirass, or an expert valet at 
 dusting a doublet." 
 
 ^' By my troth, sir scribe,'^ quoth Hartorff, 
 *' you talk largely, but I doubt me if the 
 shell you could crack must not be minus the 
 kernel.'^ 
 
 ^' No doubt. Master Hartorff, there is 
 many a walnut tree which pays not the 
 pains of thrashing ; methinks now, you look 
 as if you were well protected by your 
 harness; but if you crack rot your enemy^s
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 137 
 
 head-piece with more skill than your jokes, 
 I would, if I were you, give over both 
 trades.'^ 
 
 '^Ah ! Master scribe, when you mount a 
 shield,! suppose your motto will be, run and 
 read." 
 
 "And yours, friend," replied Konrad, 
 ''run without the reading." 
 
 At this time the party were entering a 
 wood ; the boughs hung low, and the narrow 
 path allowed but one at a time to pass. 
 The Baron bent down to his saddle-bow, and 
 passed under the thick drooping branches, 
 but Konrad who was in his rear, flourished 
 a stout ashen stick, the only weapon of any 
 kind which he possessed, and skilfully turn- 
 ing his horse round, raised himself slightly 
 in his stirrups, and nearly severed it asunder 
 with his staff. It fell across the neck of the 
 steed which Hartorff bestrodcjwho reared, and 
 stumbling over a root that was in the path, 
 lodged the Lieutenant, who wasin truth a good
 
 138 MAURICE, 
 
 and bold rider, upon the ground. He was up 
 again in a moment, and rode after Konrad 
 in order to strike him down with his pike. 
 The other backed his horse into the over- 
 hanging brushwood, and the lieutenant 
 would have come upon the haunches of 
 the Baron's steed if he had not suddenly 
 reined in. 
 
 " What is that V cried Reiterstein sternly, 
 rearing his charger round. 
 
 " Merely, Baron/' said the youth coolly, 
 " a courtesy on ray part to save your lieu- 
 tenant the degradation of stooping. I made 
 a clearance of the boughs which you passed 
 under anon, and Master Hartorflf's steed, 
 mistaking his rider's hour for repose, 
 gave him a premature lodging in a bed of 
 nettles." 
 
 " It was a malicious trick of that beard- 
 less youth to cast ridicule on your lieuten- 
 ant; I was willing to teach him that better 
 manners were due to your officer."
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 139 
 
 '* And is it usual to enforce discipline 
 upon an unarmed man with a heavy pike? 
 no more of these broils," said the Baron. 
 
 " Really," observed Konrad innocently, 
 *' I deserve better from your officer, Baron ; 
 perhaps he will now be convinced that a 
 smooth face and a nerveless arm are not 
 synonymous.'^ 
 
 It was now past mid-day ; the path be- 
 came wider and the party quickened their 
 pace, hoping to clear the forest ere sun down, 
 but night in these sombre woods was fore- 
 stalled by an hour, and after much difficulty, 
 and some time spent in their intricacies 
 and windings, in passing over fallen trees, 
 projecting roots, and broken stumps, it was 
 determined to bivouac for the night in the 
 first open space which might present itself. 
 A turn in the narrow way at length brought 
 them to the spot they desired, with the 
 advantage of a small spring, which after 
 gurgling through stones and moss, fell into
 
 140 MAURICE, 
 
 a hollow in the broken ground, and formed 
 a small pool. It was evident that, although 
 they had been winding their way for some 
 time in the dark, day-light had not quite 
 departed. There was yet sufficient to direct 
 their operations. Every trooper was now 
 busily engaged in unburthening his steed, 
 and leading the tired animal who had not 
 been unbitted since the morning, to the 
 spring, then leaving him to find such 
 forage as the more open glades rendered 
 palatable, betook himself to the cares of 
 his own comforts. 
 
 Each man had stowed in a bag at his 
 saddle-bow, provision for the twenty-four 
 hours ; the Baron alone having led horses 
 to carry such baggage as he might require 
 for his own convenience. 
 
 The men cast aside their heavier accou- 
 trements ; cuirass and saddle formed their 
 hard pillows. Konrad carefully groomed his 
 steed ; he fashioned a piece of sapling into
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SA.XONY. 141 
 
 a semicircle in order to relieve his beast 
 from the sweat and dust of the journey, 
 using afterwards a handful of dry cones as 
 substitutes for a more convenient instrument 
 with which to finish his operations, and 
 having thoroughly examined and washed at 
 the spring the feet of the noble creature 
 which had carried him so well, was caress- 
 ing and leading him back to his companions 
 in toil, when the Baron who had been 
 watching him, observed — 
 
 ^' No bad grooming for a novice, Hartorff ; 
 methinks in time he may make as good a 
 trooper as the best of us ; he seems as alert 
 as if he had not travelled a league." 
 
 *' He has not much to carry/^ replied the 
 other, *^ and is the best mounted of our 
 party." 
 
 '* True, but he cannot be used to such 
 hard riding : how happened it by the bye, 
 that the highest couraged steed in the stable 
 was apportioned to the lightest weight ?
 
 142 MAURICE, 
 
 he would have suited you better lieu- 
 tenant.'' 
 
 " I have no great fancy for the beast,*' he 
 replied ; " our tempers do not suit ; I cannot 
 abide puling* over an animal for an hour, 
 to coax him into humour, but nevertheless 
 I care not to change steeds, if it be your 
 pleasure, and certainly the beast is a fitter 
 one for a man at arms, than a scribe, with 
 a spelling book in his pocket, and an ink- 
 horn at his belt/' 
 
 Konrad was determined not to part so 
 easily with his horse, for Hartorfi''s motives 
 were palpable ; he was jealous of the credit 
 he had gained in managing a steed believed 
 to be untameable, and was willing to possess 
 the finest horse in the troop. 
 
 *' Hold, Master Hartorfi*, unless it be the 
 Baron's pleasure, I shall not so readily part 
 with black John ; you ordered the steed to 
 be delivered to me, I have no doubt with the 
 friendly intention of giving me a taste for.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 143 
 
 and a lesson in, horsemanship. Our tempers 
 suit admirably ; my spelling" book and ink- 
 horn seem more consonant to his mettle, 
 than the clatter of your steel clothing. I 
 came opportunely to relieve you from an 
 animal who would have been left useless in 
 the stable.'" 
 
 Having thus replied, he led his horse 
 among the trees, where he gathered such 
 leaves as he could collect for a litter. 
 Wrapping" himself in his cloak with his 
 saddle and valise for a pillow, he was soon 
 in the land of dreams, in which Thumelda, 
 the Baron, Hartorflf, and Krantz, were mixed 
 up in rapid succession and confusion. Fa- 
 tigue rendered his sleep for a time heavy, 
 but not comfortable, for though unused to 
 luxury, he did not find much relief for his 
 tired members on the hard ground. From 
 time to time he arose to stretch his limbs ; 
 his rude companions were lying around, 
 sheltered by the lofty firs, whose tall trunks,
 
 144 MAURICE, 
 
 the growth of ages, — reared their tufted 
 heads like stately columns on every side. 
 The moon in her pale beauty shone over the 
 open space, glancing" her beams on the 
 steel head - pieces and pikes which were 
 piled in the centre, and reflecting them at 
 intervals on the side arms of the sleeping 
 troopers. 
 
 Konrad again courted repose, but was 
 awake before dawn, and having refreshed 
 himself at the spring, sauntered under the 
 trees. His attention was arrested by a voice 
 not far distant. 
 
 " I tell you, Baron, he will bring us no 
 good ; he will be but a spy upon our 
 actions, and is too full of heretical doc- 
 trines and crude notions of honour, to serve 
 our purpose. He forswears the idea of 
 absolution, and prefers carrying his sins 
 about with him, until he is loaded like a 
 pack-horse, rather than relieve his pocket 
 and his conscience to the first priest, who
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 145 
 
 may be willing- to lighten the one and 
 * release him from the burthen of the other. 
 Then, as I heard from Schwartz coming 
 along-j he is the sworn ally of Krantz 
 the miller, and they say is not insensible 
 to the beauty of the daughter." 
 
 '' Ha .'" exclaimed the Baron, '' the better 
 reason he should be one of us. If he come 
 as a spy, we must not lose sight of him ; 
 his conscience is no affair of ours, if he pile 
 it with sin as high as the mountain of Bram- 
 melberg.'^ 
 
 " Pardon me. Baron ; a man who doth 
 not shrive, is chary as to the load he un- 
 dertakes to carry about with him in this 
 world, and through the gates of death into 
 the next ; they say the miller has forbidden 
 his suit to the maiden, and that he has left 
 his father's house in despair." 
 
 Here distance separated the speakers from 
 the listener. In half an hour the troop was 
 in movement, and before mid- day, had 
 
 VOL. 1. II
 
 146 MAURICE, 
 
 reached a small gast-haus on the out- 
 skirts of the forest, where it was deter- 
 mined to make a halt until the after- 
 noon. 
 
 Mine hostess was ill-prepared for such a 
 troop of hungry adventurers, who, she was 
 aware, were in the habit of living- at free 
 quarters ; but to say nay, while there was 
 kine in the field, or wine in the cellar, she 
 knew to be vain, therefore met the necessity 
 with good grace, and supplied them as far 
 as her means permitted with apparent 
 cheerfulness. Ere they were quite ready 
 to take the road, the tramp of a horse at 
 full trot was heard approaching, and a 
 trooper drew rein before the door. He was 
 well mounted, but divested of any ar- 
 mour of defence. 
 
 A stout doublet of dark brown cloth was 
 girded round his waist by a broad belt of 
 bufi* leather, in which were inserted two
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 147 
 
 pistols and a dag-ger. A broad-sword hun^ 
 from his side, by a cross belt of the same 
 material. His legs were defended by thick 
 high boots ; he wore a cloak of the colour 
 of his doublet ; and a slouched hat, which 
 from its peculiar shape seemed designed to 
 shield him equally from sun or rain, com- 
 pleted his attire. He was of robust make, 
 and his bronzed complexion denoted con- 
 tinual exposure to the weather. His hair 
 was bushy, and added an air of ferocity 
 to his features, which bore the stamp 
 of audacity and courage, but of honesty 
 also. 
 
 The Baron, ere his approach, had been 
 leaning- with his arms crossed in meditation, 
 but suddenly rising- from his listless pos- 
 ture, started up, and advanced towards 
 him. 
 
 ^' This is greater speed than I looked for; I 
 hardly expected you so soon. Here Schwartz, 
 
 H 2
 
 148 MAURICE, 
 
 see to Hendrick's beast, and order that some- 
 thing be got for his master. Now Hendrick, 
 what news V 
 
 ''Why this. Baron : the Elector is impa- 
 tient that you should join him, therefore 
 have I ridden hard, lest I should 'miss you 
 where there are many paths." 
 
 " How fares the siege, soldier ?'* 
 
 '' They are likely,^' replied Hendrick, *' to 
 give us a long sitting before their walls ; and 
 some days since, in an adventurous^sally, 
 Duke George of Mecklenburg with Sir 
 Otho and some other nobles, were made 
 prisoners, and are now profitting by the 
 hospitality of the wool gatherers, and fat 
 burghers of Magdeburg. The Elector, who 
 narrowly escaped the same fate himself, 
 owing to this misfortune, the more needs 
 your presence, which he looked for ere 
 this." 
 
 *' By my faith," exclaimed the Baron an- 
 grily, *' I have half a mind to decline his
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 149 
 
 overtures ; doth he not know that my force 
 hath been much thinned in Italy, and that I 
 have now left Reitersteiu nearly defence- 
 less, in order to bring- such small numbers 
 to his aid as are left me ?" 
 
 '* Doubtless/' responded Hendrick, '* the 
 Duke is impatient, in order that you may 
 share the honours of the siege, as well as 
 some of the goodly stores its wealthy citi- 
 zens have hoarded within their stone walls. 
 He agrees to your terms, and proposes, that 
 until Sir Otho may be released, his band 
 shall be placed under your command." 
 
 ^* Enough/^ said the Baron ; *' now Har- 
 torff, to horse. Hendrick will doubtless be 
 ready by the time we are prepared to con- 
 tinue our march." 
 
 We shall leave this party for a time, 
 and carry our readers to another scene ; 
 we must retrograde some days in order to 
 explain the last part of the foregoing 
 Chapter.
 
 150 MAURICE, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The Town of Magdeburg* had been in- 
 vested since September in the preceding 
 year by Maurice's army, to which had been 
 joined the forces of Duke George of Meck- 
 lenburg, both acknowledged Lutherans, and 
 both in arms for the Catholic Emperor, in 
 order to force the unhappy inhabitants to 
 subscribe to, and receive doctrines in oppo- 
 sition to those of which they had declared 
 themselves believers. But Maurice had ulte- 
 rior objects in view, and although the Baron's
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 151 
 
 numbers were few, his standard was certain 
 to attract adventurers for other reasons, in 
 addition to the reputation which he bore, as 
 a brave and skilful soldier. 
 
 The captivity, besides, of the young Duke 
 George, who commanded the cavalry, had 
 deprived him of an ambitious and distin- 
 guished leader; and Maurice was well 
 assured, that Reiterstein would be too eager 
 in his desire to share in the expected plun- 
 der, resent any signs of displeasure which he 
 might display, at his delay. 
 At the time this story commences, in a cham- 
 ber of the keep in the Castle of Magdeburg, 
 two prisoners were, and had been for some 
 hours confined ; a small lamp suspended from 
 the ceiling feebly gleamed on the gray-stone 
 walls, w hich were pierced bytwo loop holes 
 only, scarcely admitting, even at noon-day, 
 the light of heaven. A rough table and two 
 low stools were all the furniture the cell 
 contained ; one of its occupants, spite of his
 
 152 MAURICE, 
 
 recent vvounds, was impatiently pacing the 
 limited space; his cheek was flushed by 
 anger and shame as well as by pain from 
 the sabre cut which he had received in a 
 skirmish of the morning ; his hand in- 
 tuitively e^j^sayed to clutch the sword from 
 his side, which was no longer there, as if 
 to cleave a passage through the massy walls; 
 but when he recollected that he was weapon- 
 less he clenched his teeth, and stamped 
 impetuously. The whole expression of his 
 face and figure betokened high courage, 
 daring ambition, and impatience under 
 restraint, contradiction, or suffering. It is 
 easy to imagine how hard imprisonment 
 must have been to such a character, possess- 
 ing all the fire of youth, added to a tem- 
 perament as ardent as reckless. His com- 
 panion in misfortune sat in silent abstractiqn, 
 not less dauntless in his bearing; but sorrow 
 and disappointment marked every lineament 
 of his noble countenance, and his soiled and
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONV. 153 
 
 disordered appearance gaye evidence that he 
 had not been subdued without a fierce 
 strugg-le; but there he sat, the sport of for- 
 tune, and the victim of war ; many conflict- 
 ing- thoughts gave a varying expression to 
 his face ; there tenderer recollections were 
 blended with, but softened the sterner pas- 
 sions. Much of his youth had been spent in 
 Italy ; its ancient freedom, grandeur, and 
 renown accorded with his high sentiments of 
 knightly valour; while its more polished 
 arts and manners had thrown an elegance 
 into his demeanour which manifested itself 
 in every movement. His figure was exqui- 
 sitely proportioned, and though firmly knit, 
 was rather slender than robust ; but for the 
 alternate flashing of his dark eye, you would 
 have said that he was calm, so perfectly 
 tranquil was his attitude, and so free from 
 any gesture of impatience. 
 
 "Truly Otho,'' said his companion with 
 some asperity," you bear your misfortunes 
 
 H 5
 
 154 MAURICE, 
 
 meekly; one would think that you were an 
 old acquaintance with such accommodation 
 as the good citizens have provided for us, 
 instead of a free denizen of the earth ac- 
 customed to liberty and command." 
 
 " It is the fortune of war/^ replied 0th o 
 tranquilly, " and resistance under it will not 
 lighten, or abate the inconvenience." 
 
 *' Inconvenience," retorted the impetuous 
 Duke, surveying the dismal and narrow 
 apartment; ''by my spurs, inconvenient 
 enough, for a wounded man ; you seem to 
 have foreseen some such mischance, by your 
 supine manner of treating it." 
 
 '* Nor in following your highness in daring 
 exploits, need I be a dealer in forbidden arts, 
 to foretel the possibility of such discomfiture 
 as hath now befallen us ; but a soldier should 
 be prepared for such tricks of fortune, or if 
 he cannot escape them, bear with them. If our 
 good swords, (and well their temper aided 
 us) could have saved us from this mishap, we 
 should now be reposing in our tents.'*
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 155 
 
 '' Surely/' said the Duke, " Maurice will 
 take some more active measures for attack, 
 and release us from this durance.^' 
 
 '' Not he," replied Otho, "it is neither 
 
 his policy, nor his principle ; he will cause 
 no more slaughter among- the good Mag- 
 deburghers than he can avoid ; and there 
 he is right. I wish not release at such an 
 expenditure of blood. I fear we must con- 
 tent ourselves to remain prisoners, until he 
 starves the besieged into conditions, or sur- 
 render; and more, I doubt if your adven- 
 turous courage does not shoot beyond the 
 aim of his policy.^' 
 
 *'And w^ho will command my cavalry, 
 think you, Otho, or your well ordered band, 
 as valiant although not so numerous?" 
 
 "Albert of Brandenburg,'" he replied, 
 " will supply your place and the dark Rei- 
 tcrstein mine. A messenger ere long, 
 (if he cannot negotiate our release, which 
 it is not likely he will be able, if wil- 
 ling to do,) will be sent to hasten and
 
 156 MAURrCE, 
 
 make terms with that worthy— if he be re- 
 turned from Italy, and hath not pledged him- 
 self to some higher bidder, for larger hire? 
 or has not already departed upon some pre- 
 datory excursion, on his own account." And 
 here Otho's calm resignation seemed to desert 
 him, and his flashing eye, and burning cheek, 
 denoted how intensely hateful to him the 
 person was, of whom he spoke. 
 
 "Truly a worthy deputy for you,'^ rejoined 
 George, "a man ever ready to shed blood in 
 any cause for gold, or to pay gold for blood, 
 if likely to bring usurious interest on the 
 outlay. But, I wonder me whether these 
 pugnacious citizens mean to reciprocate 
 by anticipation the Elector's kindness, and 
 starve us out; or do they think that our 
 palates are satisfied by the morning's taste 
 of cold steel ? and that abstinence will secure 
 me from an access of feverish symptoms ? 
 
 ''If they would starve us out of their 
 city,^' said Otho, " we might give them
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 157 
 
 thauks for their spare rations; no, no, de- 
 pend upon it they will nourish us, to keep 
 up our courage, that we may lash and Iret 
 under our confinement in this stone cage ; 
 neither will they make better terms with 
 the Elector by imbittering our imprison- 
 ment; they are only willing to shew us what 
 they can do, if patients arc refractory, 
 and cause this first taste of captivity to 
 be irksome, in order to render our 
 after treatment more palatable ; besides, 
 the melee of the morning, no doubt, has 
 cast the authorities into some confusion ; 
 nor can we tell how long the fight lasted 
 after our removal from the scene of action, 
 whether renewed, or even if now ended ; 
 nor do Count Mansfeldt, or Heideck lack 
 courtesy." 
 
 Furtlier conversation was precluded, for 
 the bolts of their prison door were with- 
 drawn, and an oflScer of rank, attended by a 
 surgeon and four musqueteers, presented 
 himself ; uncovering his head, he ad-
 
 158 MAURICE, 
 
 vanced with respect towards the young" 
 Duke, who eyed him with some haughti- 
 ness, and trying to conceal his chagrin, 
 observed : 
 
 '' In faith, Count Heideck, we were me- 
 ditating the question whether Count Albert 
 had forgotten that fortune had made Duke 
 George of Mecklenburg his prisoner ?" 
 
 **The Count/' replied Heideck, 'Ms far 
 too brave and courteous a knight himself, 
 to bear lightly in his recollection that he 
 holds Duke George of Mecklenburg as his 
 guest ; he begs, through me, his excuse for 
 the brief discomfort which you may have 
 suffered ; but your Highness has heralded 
 your coming by deeds, which have given 
 him busy occupation ; and an hour has 
 scarcely passed since the reports brought in 
 informed him of your detention ; he regrets 
 to find that you have suffered in the m6\6e, 
 and would not leave the selection of an able 
 practitioner, and more fitting lodging to
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 159 
 
 other hands than mine. I will therefore 
 conduct you to apartments better suited to 
 your present condition, your rank, and the 
 esteem in which he holds your valour, 
 nothing doubting that you will not hesitate 
 to pledge your princely word in order to 
 guarantee him from responsibility. A 
 messenger accompanies me, who, if it be 
 your desire, shall speed with a flag of truce 
 to the camp, with assurance of your safety ; 
 and will likewise be the bearer of an order 
 for such personal attendants and baggage, 
 as you may require. I am charged with the 
 same commission to you, Sir Otho." 
 
 He then beckoned to one of the soldiers, to 
 supply materials ; a note was quickly de- 
 spatched, the Duke^s wounds were dressed, 
 and Heideck preceded his prisoners to the 
 apartments destined for their use during 
 their captivity. Two attendants entered 
 with some slight refreshment, and Count 
 Heideck retired, saying, " he would return
 
 160 MAURICE, 
 
 to conduct them to supper, as the Governor 
 had commanded him to do.'^ 
 
 The two friends were speedily in posses- 
 sion of such changes as they had sent for ; 
 and were prepared to attend Count Heideck 
 when he returned. The Duke had some 
 opportunity, even in his transit from his 
 apartment to the hall, of observing the 
 quiet order which was maintained through- 
 out the Castle. 
 
 Count Mansfeldt advanced to meet his cap- 
 tives ; different groups composed of the chief 
 officers of the garrison, prisoners of rank and 
 the heads of the state, w^ere waiting their 
 arrival. No evidence of the strife without 
 was visible in the scene before them, for 
 many were in the garb of peace, more 
 befitting the presence of those graceful 
 ladies who were equally mingled with their 
 defenders in the circle. 
 
 Count Albert led the Duke and Otho 
 to the upper end of the hall, and presenting
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 161 
 
 them to two ladies, addressed the elder, 
 saying- : 
 
 ^' Isabella, fortune has favoured us with 
 the presence of these noble gentlemen ; I am 
 sure it were needless for nie to crave 
 your consideration, in order to make the 
 hours which they may pass with us, as little 
 tedious as the limited resources of our be- 
 leagured town will allow. ^' 
 
 The Countess bowed a graceful assent, 
 and even Duke George could not but admit 
 how widely different the scene before him, 
 was from the rude manners of the camp to 
 which he had been accustomed. The Coun- 
 tess was still in the prime of life ; her figure 
 was commanding, and peculiarly elegant; 
 her features fine, just within the verge of 
 being prominent ; there was a character of 
 determination about the mouth, and a brilli- 
 ancy in the eye, vvhich bespoke promptitude, 
 and decision in emergency, unguided by 
 impulse ; she possessed nobility and recti-
 
 162 MAURICE, 
 
 tude of manner, which, although urbane, did 
 not condescend to wear the masquerading; 
 cloak of affability as the disguise of latent 
 pride. She seemed formed for the stirring 
 scenes of uncertain warfare, among which 
 she moved, fitted to counsel, or even in ex- 
 tremity, to command. 
 
 The beautiful maiden, who stood by her 
 side, was a softened and youthful portrait 
 of her mother; a gayer expression gave 
 more piquancy, if less energy, to the charac- 
 ter of her face, which was rounder; a slight 
 sarcastic turn was at times just perceptible 
 in the play of the lip, but so tempered 
 by the softness of her eyes, that ridicu- 
 lous pretension alone called it forth. The 
 Count's request seemed scarcely needful to 
 bespeak sympathy towards the strangers ; 
 there was no allusion to the events of the 
 day, which had thrown them into their so- 
 ciety; and duiing the repast, Otho found, 
 that his loved land of Italy was the favorite
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 163 
 
 theme of the lovely maiden who was placed 
 by his side. 
 
 Count Albert, his wife, and daug-hter, 
 seemed to stand aloof from the rude man- 
 ners of the age. Early in life he was d^s 
 posed to become a convert to the Lutheran 
 doctrine, but before he adopted tenets at 
 variance with those of his forefathers, he 
 examined with diligence into the diflferences 
 and merits of both ; when he travelled into 
 Italy, the glaring vices, bigotry, and cupidity 
 of the Court of Rome under Paul the Third, 
 contrasted with the simplicity, and moral 
 purity of the religion then under his ex- 
 amination, and which he was inclined to 
 profess, settled his opinions upon the firmest 
 basis — that of reason ; he did not more la- 
 ment the persecution against the Protestant 
 church, than the fanaticism of many of its 
 own professors, which but too often gave 
 excuse for that persecution ; and with sor- 
 row he now saw the avowed friends of
 
 164 MAURICE, 
 
 reformation armed against their brethren, 
 to force upon them tenets contrary to their 
 own persuasion. 
 
 Mansfeldt had no son to succeed him in 
 his fiefs, if he ever recovered them ; accident 
 had deprived him of his first-born, a boy ; 
 his daughter would inherit his allodial pos- 
 sessions, which he hoped in better times 
 might be restored to him ; no care had been 
 wanting on the part of her parents to fit her 
 for the inheritance she might possess. 
 
 The banquet was abundant, but not sump- 
 tuous ; for Mansfeldt foresaw the possibility 
 of the straits to which the city might be 
 reduced, and not only judiciously regu- 
 luted the consumption of provisions gene- 
 rally, but gave an example in his own 
 household, of the economy he enforced 
 elsewhere. 
 
 "Heideck," said the Count, ** how is it 
 that our nephew Henry is not among our 
 guests? we can ill spare at any time the 
 prop of our house."
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 165 
 
 *' I am never willing- to be the bearer of 
 ill news," returned Heideck, "but T grieve 
 to say, that not long- since, Count Henry 
 was brought in from the sally of this morn- 
 ning, sorely, although not dangerously 
 wounded.'* Heideck, as he qualified the 
 first part of his speech, by the last sentence, 
 looked towards Mathilda, whose blanched 
 cheek told of a more than common interest 
 in her cousin^s fate. 
 
 The Count was starting from his seat, 
 but Heideck added, " be not alarmed ; your 
 kinsman's hurt, as the leech assures me, 
 will cause the brave youth some suff*ering ; 
 but with prompt and proper treatment, he 
 has no apprehension for his life." 
 
 '* Where is he hurt ?" said the Count." 
 *' A sword cut on the shoulder, Count." 
 "Would that I could measure swords 
 with him who dealt the wound," said Albert; 
 '' hfs life should pay forfeit for the deed." 
 "It is in your power," said Otho, firmly;
 
 166 MAURICE, 
 
 " unhappily your kinsman encountered me 
 as he pressed eagerly into the fray ; I grieve 
 that the fortune of war should have cast it 
 to my lot, to cause 5'ou so much concern ; 
 but your nephew's valour left me no alter- 
 native, and had he not been Count Albert's 
 kinsman, his life would have paid the 
 penalty for his bravery." 
 
 This speech was uttered with so much 
 concern and calmness of manner, that Mans- 
 feldt's better feeling of justice prevailed. 
 He paused, and Schmidt observed : 
 
 " I think, Sir Knight, an you had been 
 wise, you would not have proclaimed a deed 
 not likely to lighten your treatment during 
 your captivity/* 
 
 " 1 should do the Count injustice,'' replied 
 Otho, *^ if such a motive withheld me ; he 
 cannot condemn in his prisoner, the fair 
 fight, which doubtless he applauds in his 
 nephew, although that nephew sufi'ered in 
 the onslaught ; nor shall I shield myself in
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 167 
 
 silence to cheat him into greater courtesy, 
 than his duty as a commander, and regard 
 for his kinsman may incline him ;^^ and in 
 saying this, Otho's dark eye flashed with 
 that energy of honest truth which his words 
 conveyed. 
 
 Mansfeldt turning to him, said, *' you 
 have judged justly, Sir Otho, as one brave 
 man should believe of another, although 
 the other be his enemy in the field." — It was 
 evident, however worthy of himself the 
 Count's conduct might be, that the state of 
 his nephew had greatly disturbed him ; and 
 he arose as soon as the repast was con- 
 cluded, to seek the youth's apartment. He 
 found him pale from the loss of blood. 
 
 *^An unfortunate afi*air this, mine uncle. 
 Heaven knows how many days and weeks 
 may elapse ere this at present useless limb 
 will be fit for service.'' 
 
 *^ I trust, my boy," replied Mansfeldt, ^' it 
 may not yet be required either for attack or
 
 168 MAURICE, 
 
 defence, but he who has thus scarred you 
 is our prisoner.'^ 
 
 ''Faith then/' observed Henry, *' you 
 have the keeping of a noble fellow. I saw 
 him ever by the Duke's side foremost in the 
 fray ; I singled him out from the rest to 
 essay my strength and skill ; my honour 
 was piqued, for he rather avoided the en- 
 counter ; I pressed hard upon him, and 
 called upon him to defend himself or yield : 
 the former he was compelled to do, but still 
 he seemed to hesitate, and somewhat stayed 
 his arm ere the blow fell which disabled 
 mine. I was unhorsed ; our people came 
 on him as he dismounted to raise me from 
 the ground, and he was made, in aiding me, 
 his enemy, a prisoner." 
 
 Thou art a rash boy, Henry, and hold 
 too cheap a life, for many reasons, dear to 
 us ; learn from an old and tried soldier, who 
 never stayed his arm where courage could 
 avail, that rashness is bravery gone mad.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 169 
 
 I trust the hot blood which hath crimsoned 
 the field to-day, will bring- you to cooler 
 reason ; had I heeded the sneer, and implied 
 counsel of the wily Schmidt, who always 
 thinks we deal too leniently with our pri- 
 sonerSj (although not foremost to place him- 
 self in danger,) or had not your opponent's 
 candour prepossessed nie in his favour, I 
 might, in the wrath of the moment, have 
 done him some wrong." 
 "How fares my sweet cousin ?'' said Henry. 
 
 '^ As you would wish her, my dear boy,'^ 
 said Mansfeldt, smiling, — **much moved by 
 your disaster ; to-morrow she shall thank 
 you in person for the paling of her cheek to- 
 day ; but for to-night you must dispense with 
 further talk, or attendance, save of those 
 who will watch you.'' He then turned and 
 quitted the room. 
 
 Our captives were well inclined to retire 
 to their allotted apartments. 
 
 '' Otho,'* said George, " the lady Mathilda 
 VOL. I. ' I
 
 170 MAURICE, 
 
 is a fair maiden ; she seemed to lend a 
 willing ear to your talk of travel." 
 
 "And a less willing one/' replied Otho, 
 '^ to Count Heideck's report of her cousin's 
 danger; 'pon ray life I never before was so 
 much out of humour with this right arm 
 of mine." 
 
 Some days elapsed before Henry could 
 quit his chamber, nor was he impatient 
 under a restraint which yielded him so much 
 of his aunt's and his cousin's society ; no- 
 thing crossed their mutual affection ; the sky 
 of their destiny was clear, and they looked 
 not for coming storms, which might dim its 
 brightness. 
 
 Each day Duke George found his impri- 
 sonment less irksome; but each day Otho's 
 manner became more sad ; his companion's 
 raillery was of no avail to draw him from 
 his long fits of abstraction, and the only 
 moments which appeared to bring relief to 
 him, were those he passed in conversation
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 171 
 
 with Mathilda. This discovery seemed to 
 irritate his companion. Otho, for a time, 
 was too much absorbed in his own reflec- 
 tions, to take note of the pique which the 
 other displayed ; but George's fiery tempera- 
 ment could ill brook such apparent insensi- 
 bility, and he sought for an opportunity to 
 vent his spleen on his offending, although 
 unconscious companion. 
 
 Mansfeldt had refused every overture for 
 the release or ransom of his prisoners, but 
 put no restraint on their persons ; their 
 parole was given, and accepted ; and within 
 the walls of the city they were free, till the 
 closing of the Castle gates at sun-set, to 
 parade the confined limits of the town. 
 
 Spring was advancing, but it brought no 
 genial warmth to the heart of Otho ; he 
 paced the corridors with listless strides in 
 melancholy musings. Wandering one morn- 
 ing into the long gallery, which ran at right 
 angles with a narrow passage leading to 
 
 I 2
 
 172 MAURICE, 
 
 their apartments, he suddenly staid his steps 
 and leaned against the deep embrasure of 
 one of the windows, contemplating with 
 varied and bitter thoughts, the fair scene 
 which lay stretched beyond the walls and the 
 Elbe. The tents of the beleaguring army 
 arose like dots in long files beneath, although 
 too far distant to discern from such a height 
 their shape or count their numbers. Otho 
 was unconscious for some minutes that other 
 eyes were directed to the same view, but a 
 voice addressing him, caused him to look up. 
 
 *' A fair field, and well laid out," said 
 Henry ; *' if numbers will win our walls, we 
 may despair of effectual resistance, or be- 
 speak these towers to be our tombs.^' 
 
 "I trust not that," replied Otho, "for 
 although not of your persuasion, I am not 
 bigot enough to believe that carnage can be 
 an acceptable or appropriate ofi*ering to Him, 
 by whose name we designate ourselves." 
 
 " And yet your practice accords not with
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 178 
 
 your speech, as my discibled arm gives me 
 evident proof.'' 
 
 *' Fale/' answered Otho, ** has carved 
 for me the trade of war, but I love neither 
 its abuses nor its excesses ; and if fame did 
 not blow her trumpet in praise of glory, and 
 drown in its echoes the cries extracted by the 
 manifold calamities which warfare brings, 
 we should, in after life, look back upon our 
 bravest deeds with horror and repentance, 
 and write them down as murder/' 
 
 ** 1 trust," said Henry, ** we shall not here- 
 after be called to account for them under 
 this denomination." 
 
 "I hope not," replied Otho, '' or at least 
 that the onus may fall on those who need- 
 lessly provoke war, or who unnecessarily 
 continue it." 
 
 ** Now tell me truly," said Henry, 'Svhat 
 staid your arm when we encountered some 
 days since ?" 
 
 " I should fear to offend you,'' answered 
 Otho, '^ if I were to state all the causes
 
 174 MAURICE, 
 
 which induced me to parry, rather than to 
 return your onset.'^ 
 
 '' Fear not !^* replied Henry, '' for although 
 you baulked my skill, my life was spared 
 by you/^ 
 
 "Many hurried thoughts, brave youth, 
 swept through my mind at the moment ; I 
 knew you by the bearings on your shield ; 
 I had heard that you were the beloved scion 
 of a noble house ; and pardon me, I did not 
 believe that we were equally matched ; you 
 are somewhat my junior, and this your first 
 essay in arms; such a victory would have 
 added no leaf to my laurels, and I love not 
 to spill blood for blood's sake.'^ 
 
 Henry's face mantled, but Otho's name, 
 though young in the field, was already 
 known as one of high chivalry, and he felt 
 that the candid declaration which he had 
 elicited from him, was not tainted by vain 
 boast. 
 
 From the end of the corridor, the Coun-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 175 
 
 tess and her daughter now approached, 
 accompanied by Duke George. 
 
 '* Ah ! Mathilda," cried Henry, " vainly 
 have I soug-ht for you in bower and hall; 
 I began to suspect, that you had taken 
 the form of a dove, and on light pinions 
 borne, had sped your flight to yonder host, — 
 the harbinger of peace." 
 
 '' I wish I could,'' replied Mathilda, with 
 a sigh ; *' how gladly would I burthen my 
 wing to bring back such joyful tidings; — but 
 my cousin, your search, if I judge by the 
 distance from your chamber, hath not been 
 over wearisome." 
 
 *' 'Tis never wearisome to seek the prize 
 we hope to find," said Henry ; " and my 
 seeking might have been continued for 
 two good hours to come, if I had not 
 intruded myself upon Sir Otho's medita- 
 tions." 
 
 ** I suspect they embraced a w ide field," 
 observed the Countess, gazing on the ex- 
 panse of country which lay below.
 
 176 MAURICE, 
 
 *' They did indeed, lady/' sighed Sir 
 Otho, ^' as far as thought could span, and 
 as rapidly ; they included the sorrow s of 
 the past, and the hopes and fears of the 
 future; unlike the gentle bird Count Henry 
 quoted anon, my thoughts found no rest- 
 ing place, but with flagging wings^ re- 
 turned to their cheerless home." 
 
 '* You should stay the flight of such pro- 
 fitless wanderers. Sir Otho/' said Mathilda^ 
 *^ unless like summer-bees, they bear some 
 honey on their wings. '^ 
 
 '^This were too hard a task, lady, while 
 memory and want of occupation, enlist upon 
 their side, to free them from restraint.'' 
 
 '' I will then be their taskmaster," said 
 Mathilda, gaily ; '^ my cousin, the knight of 
 the armed sling, for this same lack of occu- 
 pation, hath broken the cords of my lute ; 
 and as he hath not able hands wherewith to 
 repair the damage, I shall charge you to re- 
 string it; but on condition that you tune it 
 to a higher key for mirthful melo 'y than surh
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 177 
 
 sal musings give warrant of, or our song^ 
 will resemble rather the wail of the wild 
 Indian, than the tuneful outpouring* of blith- 
 some hearts, and the evil will be but little 
 amended.'^ 
 
 *' Most gladly will I do your bidding*, fair 
 lady; and when your fairy fingers sweep the 
 chords, the lark shall cease his carol, in 
 wonder at the imitation which will so far 
 excel his song;." 
 
 '«To the tilt. Sir knight, to the tilt, with 
 this soaring* bird,'^ cried Mathilda ; *' we will 
 bring* his courag-e down, till he twitters 
 like a sparrow in the ivy of your tower." 
 
 And off she darted, calling*, as she passed, 
 to the pages, who were in attendance at the 
 end of the corridor, to follow. 
 
 The instrument and seats were quickly 
 brought; and when the lute was put in 
 order, Otho handed it to Mathilda. 
 
 '* No — no, Sir Otho, if my unskilful 
 hand should mar your tuning*, we shall lose 
 our promised victory." i 5
 
 178 MAURICE, 
 
 *^ Remember/' rejoined Sir Otho, " I am 
 but the squire to bear your lance, until you 
 take the field." 
 
 "Then it is my pleasure/* cried Mathilda, 
 *' that you try the temper of the weapon, 
 ere I venture to run the tilt." 
 
 "If I do/ he replied, "I must intreat the 
 shield of your indulgence ; but as a squire I 
 must obey / — and he sang* a roundelay of 
 exquisite sweetness, and with the skill of a 
 perfect master. 
 
 " The bird is beaten ! fairly beaten !" ex- 
 claimed Mathilda. 
 
 " Pardon me,'* returned the knight, " the 
 squire hath but trotted round the lists." 
 
 " Now come forth, fair champion,^' said 
 Henry, placing the instrument in his cou- 
 sin's hands. "You truly are the challenger 
 of the field, let it not be said that you are 
 craven, and fear to measure sounds.*' 
 
 " You speak interestedly for the honour 
 of your race, Henry ; I question if you will
 
 THK ELECTOR OF SAXOMY. 179 
 
 be a fair umpire between me and this herald 
 of the morn/' 
 
 ^'Perhaps not/' he replied, in a whisper. 
 '* if love be the theme of your lay." 
 
 *' Go to, cousin Henry, I will not indulge 
 you, or place your honesty in such jeopard y.'^ 
 
 The gay and beautiful performer was de- 
 clared victorious. 
 
 ''And now, Sir knights, what guerdon 
 for my hard fought battle ?'' 
 
 " Victory,^' cried Otho, waving his bon- 
 net, *' and the homage of all true 
 knights." 
 
 Thus passed two hours ; but Mathilda 
 was obliged to confess, that Otho's excel- 
 lence was even more prominent in the grave 
 than in the gay; her end was answered, she 
 had whiled him for a time from his habitual 
 sadness. 
 
 Not to Duke George did such pastime yield 
 pleasure. Those hours to him, had been hours 
 beset by contending passions. It was evident
 
 180 MAURICE, 
 
 that the cousins considered themselves as 
 plighted'; but whether the perfect tranquillity 
 of assured mutual affection (a trayquillity 
 he could not understand), an affection en- 
 couraged and approved by their parents, 
 combined with Mathilda's playful bantering- 
 manner to her cousin, misled him into a be- 
 lief that theirs was rather a compact of con- 
 venience than betrothment of the heart, 
 and might be set aside ^ he certainly did not 
 feel the jealousy of Henry, which Otho's 
 accomplishments inspired. 
 
 The quiet, melancholy manner of the lat- 
 ter, increasing from day to day, with the 
 interest which Mathilda took to draw him 
 from his sadness, added to the young knight's 
 refinement, so calculated to win the favour 
 of a delicate and high-minded maiden, 
 stirred up every jealous feeling of the 
 Prince's nature, and blinded him to a 
 the noble excellence of character he had 
 ever before been willing to acknowledge 
 that his companion possessed ; nor could
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 181 
 
 lie account for the subdued and more ten- 
 der manner of his noble hosts towards him, 
 whom he now looked upon as his rival; in 
 the Countess tbis was exhibited in look and 
 tone,— in the Count by a deference to his 
 opinion. The Duke stopped not to con- 
 sider how widely different their characters 
 were.— Otho seemed to expect nothing-, to 
 exact nothing", as one who had no claim on 
 kindred or on friendship ; Georg-e was more 
 eager to bend all the world to his will, and 
 to force that will although at the spear's 
 point ; his opinions were delivered with im- 
 petuosity, and he would have preferred 
 strife through danger and difficulty, rather 
 than brook contradiction. 
 
 " Upon my life/' said the Prince, sneer- 
 ingly,as they paced the ramparts together in 
 the afternoon of this day, ^* you will be the 
 David of our camp, if Maurice ever gains 
 us freedom this side the grave— only that for 
 the royal harp, v.e must read lute."
 
 182 MAURICE, 
 
 ''It would be well/' answered Otho, 
 quietly/* if such weapons would ensure con- 
 quest — there would be less carnag-e.'^ 
 
 ''Your association/' continued the Prince, 
 in the same tone, '^ with these ladies, has 
 made you as dainty on the subject of war as 
 a beardless boy, who has never belted sword 
 to his side, or clad his limbs in steel.'' 
 
 ** Say rather upon the miseries conse- 
 quent upon war, Duke Georg-e; many a 
 lusty knight hath mourned over the foe 
 whom his strong* arm hath struck to the 
 dust; and many a victorious commander 
 has viewed the field, when the heat of battle 
 was over, and the dying* and the dead lay 
 stretched around him, with sorrow." 
 
 "If such be your reflections, Otho, why 
 did you not select the cloister? 'twere 
 more befitting such womanish thoughts." — 
 
 Otho stopped short, and looking his com- 
 panion full in the face, said : -^
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 183 
 
 "What mean you, Duke? It is not re- 
 quisite that I should vaunt my courage, or 
 defend my fame ; both have been acknow- 
 ledged by, and are known to none better 
 than yourself; if to abhor the unnecessary 
 shedding- of blood, and substitute reason 
 for often times brute courage, be woman^s 
 creed alone, she is man's superior ;— if for 
 reasons which I ask not, nor care to know, 
 you wish to rid yourself of my society,— say 
 so, but use not contumely to detach me from 
 you ; a friend who will not use his sword 
 against you to resent it. I sought your stand- 
 ard with some few men at arms,— a soldier 
 of fortune, but not a marauder ; f have fol- 
 lowed you for some months, and faithfully 
 have performed, as I have held my engage- 
 ment. If our imprisonment does not in- 
 validate our compact in arms, at any rate it 
 does not bind me to your companionship in 
 captivity— I shall solicit other quarters.^ 
 Farewell.'^ And Otho quitted his fiery com- 
 panion.
 
 181 MAURICE, 
 
 The Duke, judging' by his own headstrong 
 passions, fully expected a different result, 
 and was turning to dare Otho to the fight, 
 when the relief guard came up^ and while it 
 was passing to the different posts, g-ave 
 him time to reflect upon the rashness of 
 such a proceeding; he could allege no of- 
 fence against Otho, who had abstained from 
 noticing repeated taunts, and had borne the 
 same respect to him in manner. — What ex- 
 cuse could he make to Mansfeldt for such a 
 wanton attack upon his fellow prisoner, and 
 hitherto companion? that he was in love 
 with his daughter, the betrothed of his 
 nephew ? perhaps he was hardly prepared to 
 acknowledge to himself that he had by his 
 jealous impetuosity lost the society of a 
 friend, who had solaced many a lonesome 
 hour, and upon whose bravery and judg- 
 ment he could equally rely. — But hap- 
 pily for human nature, conscience — 
 that busy and intrusive monitor — whis-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 185 
 
 pered to him some intimation of the truth, 
 although reluctantly admitted, and nearly 
 smothered, before ag^e could mature its 
 speech, or headstrong- passion would suffer 
 reflection to nourish the nurslinjj. 
 
 Otho sought the Count, and requested a 
 removal to other quarters. 
 
 He little cared, he said, for personal con- 
 venience, he feared much that his quiet 
 habits were irksome to the Duke; indeed 
 in this he spoke as he believed, for the truth 
 had never occurred to him : he was con- 
 scious how^ dissimilar were their tastes, and 
 in most matters their opinions ; and con- 
 sidered that his sad sober views^ were ill 
 assorted to a prince whose soul was in his 
 sword. 
 
 His request was readily accorded, and he 
 had far less reason of the two to regret the 
 separation. 
 
 The Count did not doubt the reasons 
 which he alleged, for the desired separation,
 
 186 MAURICE, 
 
 for there was a singleness of heart in all 
 he said and did ; that the veriest sceptic 
 could not have doubted that he possessed in 
 the highest degree that greatest beauty in 
 the human character — truth — without which 
 attribute, however high in talent, however 
 brave in action, the mind of man is but a 
 chaos of deformity ; but he was convinced 
 there was some cause, unknown even to 
 himself, for the Duke\s distaste to his 
 society, especially watching the characters 
 of the two young men as he had done. 
 
 A short time revealed to him the truth, 
 and most anxiously did he look for the hour 
 which would rid him of his captive. From 
 Otho he had nothing to fear, his manner 
 was watchful and kind, but there was nei- 
 ther love, nor jealousy in his eye ; and 
 whatever his sorrows might be, it was evi- 
 dent they were blended with an anxiety 
 which he had brought with him, and which 
 had daily increased upon him ; his general
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 187 
 
 information, and the polish of his mind and 
 manner, rendered him such an acquisition 
 in chamber and in hall, that Mansfeldt re- 
 flected with regret, that the hour which 
 would relieve him from one prisoner, must 
 deprive him of the society of the other.
 
 188 MAURICE, 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 As Otho had foreseen, a messeng-er in the 
 person of Hendrick was sent to hasten the 
 Baron, who had before received dispatches 
 requiring- his aid, as we have mentioned at 
 the commencement of our story. 
 
 Maurice's deep laid schemes of policy, 
 required every aug-mentation to his force, 
 which he could either obtain or command, 
 in order to reduce the Magdeburghers to 
 capitulation. 
 
 As Reiterstein's standard, from the un-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 189 
 
 scrupulous sort of warfare which he waged, 
 attracted all loose and disorderly adven- 
 turers who infested the country, it was par- 
 ticularly an object with the Elector to engage 
 him in his service, in order to relieve the 
 neighbourhood from these marauding- pests, 
 and not only to strengthen his own army 
 virtually by numbers, but also to intimi- 
 date by the numerical report of his be- 
 seiging host. 
 
 Otho's followers, had been somewhat 
 tamed under his steady command ; they 
 were a mixture of Spaniards, Italians, and 
 Germans. Maurice therefore decided to 
 add them to Reiterstein's band, \\hile 
 Albert of Brandenburg willingly held the 
 command of Duke George's body of free 
 adventurers during his involuntary absence. 
 
 The Baron, on their way to the camp, 
 used every persuasion to induce Konrad to 
 enrol himself in his troop, but finding that 
 he steadily declined to enlist himself, viewed
 
 190 MAURICE, 
 
 him with no favourable eye, and ordered a 
 vigilant watch to be kept over him. It was 
 rare in these times, even among the higher 
 ranks, to meet with men posessing the com- 
 mon rudiments of education; a youth there- 
 fore of Konrad's attainments, might be a 
 useful assistant in a camp, where there 
 were so many conflicting interests ; and 
 where trust - worthy messengers were re- 
 quired. 
 
 Towards the decline of day, Reiterstein 
 and his troop entered upon the plains. In 
 the distance, Magdeburg reared its gray 
 towers ; a heavy cloud which portended a 
 storm, tinged on its extreme edges by the 
 setting sun, formed a dark back ground, 
 whilst the steeples of its many churches, 
 with their glittering vaues, and the lofty 
 spires of the cathedral of St. Maurice, rose 
 above its massy walls. The spirit of resist- 
 ance to the invaders was manifest, from the 
 redoubts and fortifications, by which it was
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 191 
 
 additionally defended. The whole shone 
 out in strong contrast to the purple clouds 
 above, and the bright green of the open 
 country. Thus stood Magdeburg alone, and 
 high in her majesty ; the forest of tents 
 scattered in lines and groups upon the 
 extensive flat, appeared like the habitations 
 of pigmies, who were intent rather to smo- 
 ther this giant of the plain by their sw arms, 
 than attempt its destruction by any regular 
 force they could bring against it. Small 
 troops of horsemen were perceived cantering 
 in different directions in search of forage, and 
 here and there a single trooper was to be 
 seen conveying orders to the different out- 
 posts and commanders; but few of those 
 signs of active warfare were to be observed, 
 denoting the energy necessary in order to 
 reduce a city, which still held out, after a 
 siege of some months. 
 
 " If this be Maurice's mode of warfare," 
 remarked the Baron, *' the commanders of 
 
 I
 
 192 MAURICE, 
 
 the besieging army are likely to leave its 
 termination as an heir loom to their sons ; 
 verily one could think they were encamped 
 to view some gay tournament/' 
 
 A small party of horsemen were now 
 riding leisurely towards them from the 
 camp ; the foremost, a man apparently 
 under thirty years of age, was above the 
 ordinary height ; his well proportioned figure 
 was unmatched for gracefulness, he was of 
 fair and florid complexion, his eye keen, 
 penetrating, and full of fire, but the pecu- 
 liar expression of his countenance w^as that 
 of watchfulness, mixed with valorous daring ; 
 no sight or sound seemed to escape Iiis 
 rapid observation ; a bland and kindly smile 
 at times played over his features; there was 
 nothing of cruelty even in his most fiery mo- 
 ments, but a slight occasional contraction 
 of the brow bespoke deep and concentrated 
 thought, mingled with some anxiety. He was 
 mounted on a stout jennet, and unarmed,
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 193 
 
 save with a sword, which was suspended 
 from a broad belt of red leather, richly em- 
 broidered ia gold. A tightly fitting pour- 
 point of blue velvet laced with silver, did 
 justice to the elegance of his figure ; a mul- 
 berry coloured cloak of cloth, hemmed and 
 overlaid likewise with a broad band of silver, 
 secured by a thick cord, and tassels of the 
 same, fell over one shoulder. A black vel- 
 vet bonnet, looped on one side by an emerald 
 of unusual size, and from under which his 
 hair curled thickly, completed the costume 
 of this hero, — the assertor of German liberty 
 and of her religious freedom. 
 
 On his right rode a man, his senior, but 
 more stalwart in his proportions. Every line 
 of his face was marked by boldness and deter- 
 mination, and you might seek in vain for one 
 soft expression to mitigate its severity. He 
 still retained the cuirass, but his head was 
 undefended, save by a cap of red velvet: such 
 was Albert of Brandenburg. He bestrode 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 MAURICE, 
 
 a heavy charger, which seemed to require 
 a strong and master hand to keep him in 
 obedience ; his curved neck, distended veins 
 and nostrils, showed him of noble breed ; 
 an officer rode by his side, while two troopers 
 followed. 
 
 " By my glove/' said Hendrick, "the Elec- 
 tor and Duke Albert ; I will ride forward 
 and apprize them of your coming." 
 
 *' Do so," replied the Baron, "and learn 
 our station, for I conclude there are quar- 
 ters allotted to us." 
 
 " No doubt. Baron, you know Duke 
 Maurice executes, in an hour, what would 
 take another man half his life to con over ; 
 he is ever before-hand with time/' Thus 
 saying, he spurred forward. 
 
 The Baron and his troop slackened their 
 pace ; a short parley, and Hendrick returned. 
 
 " The Elector, Baron, desires you to join 
 him ; I will conduct your men to their 
 quarters."
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 195 
 
 The troop wheeled to the left, preceded 
 by Hendrick, while the Baron and Konrad 
 rode forward to meet Maurice. 
 
 *' Welcome Reiterstein/^ said he, *' I fear 
 we have somewhat hastened your march, 
 but in truth,*' he added, smiling graciously, 
 ** we need our ablest and our bravest leaders 
 to reduce yon obstinate city to obedience." 
 
 ''If T were to judge, Duke, by the peopling 
 of these plains, my small force is scarcely ^ 
 required for the accomplishment of this 
 end/' 
 
 ''Baron de Reiterstein must be an acqui- 
 sition," returned Maurice, *' where bravery 
 is not at a discount." 
 
 The Baron's services were in fact, of little 
 account to him for carrying on the siege, 
 but it was well to secure them for here- 
 after considerations ; he would be useful 
 for laying the country under contribution, 
 or to do such duty as men of more honour- 
 able feelings might hesitate to undertake ; 
 
 K 2
 
 196 MAURICE, 
 
 and besides, he would decline no action, 
 however desperate, if plunder was likely to 
 accrue; therefore if Maurice doubted, and 
 did not respect him, yet as a tool, he might 
 serve his purpose. 
 
 "Yon city looks as tranquil/^ said the 
 Baron, "as if there had been no watchers 
 around its circuit for the last six months; 
 your Highness' army must be somewhat 
 weary of noting its defences, numbering- its 
 loopholes, redoubts, and embrasures.'* 
 
 "Say eight months, instead of six, my 
 good friend/^ replied Maurice, boldly, ''and 
 the time will not have been mispent, if they 
 have conned their lesson well by heart ; 
 you are fortunate in coming more tardily 
 into the field, to profit by an abridgment 
 of their observations and their catalogue.^' 
 
 " I love not an idle life, your Highness, 
 and you considerately studied my taste, 
 for your despatches reached me only 
 three days after my return to Reiterstein,
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 197 
 
 where many matters demanded my presence 
 tor a time."' 
 
 *' And who may this youth be who accom- 
 panies you?'' asked Albert ; " his garb sa- 
 vours not of war; is he a follower from Italy?'' 
 
 ^' Not so/' replied the Baron, '* but one 
 whom I thought might be useful ; he is a 
 youth of capacity, and some learning, and 
 may assist your Highness's officers to a 
 readier method of calculating the strength 
 of yonder fortifications." 
 
 Maurice did not choose to notice Reiter- 
 stein's sneers, but backing his horse, waited 
 for Konrad to come up; at one glance he 
 read the youth's character in his open and 
 intelligent countenance ; he seemed mis- 
 placed with the Baron. 
 
 '* And so, young man, instead of arms you 
 bring some learning to our camp ; upon my 
 life an unusual market for such a commo- 
 ility; but you offer us that which is some- 
 what scarce, and may not be won by sword 
 or pike."
 
 198 MAURICE, 
 
 *' Pardon me, your Highness/* replied 
 Konrad, respectfully, " I would fight if the 
 cause and the commander pleased me, but 
 not if the former be against my conscience, 
 and plunder, not honour, the reward.'* 
 
 Maurice looked at the young man with 
 some surprise. 
 
 *^Your speech, young sir, is a bold one; 
 your tone high for your apparent condition, 
 and which of these reasons may have de- 
 cided you to prefer a more peaceable pro- 
 fession ?" 
 
 '* ^rwere hard to tell your Highness, where 
 either is sufiicient to weigh down the ba- 
 lance, and to deter an honest man. I will 
 not fight for those who are armed against 
 my faith, neither will I bear arms for, nor 
 do the bidding of one, who might exact that 
 which would sully my name, humble as it 
 is, and burthen my conscience, the purity 
 of which is equally dear to prince and 
 peasant.'*
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 199 
 
 '* What seek you then in such a scene as 
 this?" 
 
 ^' That chance, your Highness, may befal 
 of employment or service, when the siege is 
 concluded, with some gallant commander, 
 or perhaps a peaceful occupation within 
 the walls of Magdeburg." 
 
 Maurice's quick eye again surveyed Kon- 
 rad, and nodding, he pushed on to join the 
 others. A short distance brought them into 
 the middle of the camp, where the Elector's 
 tent was conspicuous by its size and 
 banner. 
 
 Reiterstein again mounted his horse, and 
 accompanied by an officer, sought that part 
 of the field allotted to him and his body of 
 men. Konrad stood at the opening of 
 his tent long after their departure, con- 
 templating a scene so new to him. By 
 degrees silence reigned around, and as the 
 sounds of warlike preparation ceased, the 
 elements seemed to take up the strife. Quick
 
 200 MAURICE, 
 
 flashes of lightning succeeded each other , 
 and danced fitfully athwart the towers of 
 the devoted city. Thunder rolled on in 
 deep-mouthed cannonades^ and burst in 
 claps, which seemed to threaten annihila- 
 tion to the fragile tenements around. 
 
 Konrad smiled, and thought, ''if know- 
 ledge were still hidden in benighted ignor- 
 ance, it might be imagined this awful storm 
 was a manifestation of divine wrath.'* 
 
 " How paltry," he reflected, *' do all the 
 contrivances of man for the destruction of 
 his own species appear, in contrast to these 
 evidences of supreme power, — eff*ects pro- 
 duced by natural combinations, but all 
 ordered, all regulated by the one mighty 
 hand who rules omnipotent." 
 
 The storm came sweeping on ; the light- 
 ning now darted its forked tongue at brief 
 and briefer intervals, and a smoke at some 
 distance proclaimed that it had struck its 
 prey.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 201 
 
 With breathless haste, Konrad flew to the 
 spot ; some tents were on fire ; they were 
 those appropriated to the suttlers and 
 the women, and close to the baggage wag- 
 gons. The peril was imminent ; the terri- 
 fied women were equally afraid of the fire^ 
 or of encountering the terrific storm : but 
 the soldiers, accustomed to the clamour of 
 the cannon, had not been disturbed by the 
 gradual increase of the tempest ; there was 
 therefore little assistance at hand. Konrad 
 rushed among the burning tents, and drag- 
 ged from one a woman, too much paralyzed 
 by fear to find her way out. He called 
 loudly to the few men by this time assem- 
 bled, to cut the cords of those adjoining, and 
 clear them away. Conceiving him to be an 
 officer in command, he was promptly obeyed, 
 and a space soon cleared, but not before 
 many of these temporary dwellings had been 
 consumed. Konrad paused for a moment 
 from his exertions, and cried joyfully : —
 
 202 MAURICE, 
 
 ** The rain comes '/' 
 
 It did indeed descend in torrents, and 
 ran with velocity down and overflowed the 
 narrow trenches which were formed as 
 drainage to the encampment. 
 
 By this time, numbers of the officers and 
 soldiers had assembled. Maurice, ever on 
 the alert, and alarmed by the magnified 
 reports of the immediate danger to the whole 
 of the encampment in this quarter, involving 
 probable destruction to magazines and 
 stores, and dreading, in case of such an 
 event, further outbreaks of mutiny, arrived 
 with some of his immediate officers on the 
 spot. He had witnessed the intrepidity of 
 Konrad who, certainly had, by his promp- 
 titude and courage, been the means of 
 stopping the conflagration, and saving the 
 baggage waggons. 
 
 The women were soon sheltered in other 
 tents, and the rain, which had arrested 
 the flames, rendered further assistance 
 needless.
 
 THE ELECTOR OP SAXONY. '20S 
 
 Konrad, drenched, his dress soiled, and 
 singed, by smoke and fire, turned to retrace 
 his steps to his own quarters, — when Mau- 
 rice's voice arrested hira. 
 
 " Young man, you have done nobly ; 
 come to my tent to-morrow, before mid-day, 
 — good night/* 
 
 It was nearly daybreak, before the youth 
 sought his pillow. The Elbe rose high ; 
 the besieged in despair, saw their mills 
 carried away by the turbulent waters, 
 and their means of subsistence rendered 
 doubtful. 
 
 A breach was made in their ramparts, 
 and destruction from the warring elements 
 appeared likely to forestal that which was 
 threatened by their enemies, who possibly, 
 like themselves, might feel the afflicting 
 hand of Providence. The senate lost no 
 time in idle lamentations, but sought with 
 vigour to repair the evils caused by the irre- 
 sistible storm. Boats were constructed for
 
 204 MAURICE^ 
 
 the conveyance of provisions to the brave 
 garrison, but of this resource they were 
 quickly deprived by tlie vigilance of their 
 opponents, and with grief they saw all their 
 hopes of receiving the succours collected by 
 Mansfeld's exertions cut oflf.
 
 tHB ELECTOR 01? SAXONY, 205 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Towards mid-day Konrad bent his steps 
 to Maurice's tent, before which two halber- 
 diers were keeping sentry. In vain he 
 urged the order which he had received the 
 night previously from the Duke himself ; 
 they were still obdurate, and could not 
 leave their post in order to ascertain the 
 truth of his statement. Disappointed, he 
 was turning away to seek some officer of 
 the elector's household, when, the altercation 
 being heard within, the captain of the guard
 
 206 MAURICE, 
 
 appeared, to whom Konrad repeated tbe 
 command he had received from the Duke ; 
 a similar one had just been delivered to him 
 for the youth's admission, when he should 
 present himself to claim access to the pre- 
 sence of the Elector, who was sitting* at a 
 table which was strewed with papers ; his 
 brow was clouded with thought, and marked 
 by displeasure, mixed with care. 
 
 "And so, Albert" he said " these are the 
 manifestoes which the g-ood citizens send 
 forth in my favour, but I heed them not; 
 they shall not drive me from my purposes ; 
 their heads are as senseless as their own 
 woolsacks. I would rather have it so ; it 
 assists my operations for their advantage." 
 
 He now looked up, and said with a sly 
 smile, " And so, young man, you come to 
 claim some consideration for last night's 
 exertions, and well you have earned it." 
 
 "Pardon me, your Highness, I came by 
 your desire ; I have no claim, and do not
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 207 
 
 wish to proffer any, seeing- there is no ground 
 on which to build it/^ 
 
 " You think then that your readiness 
 and courage do not demand some recom- 
 pense }'' 
 
 "' Any person would have done the same, 
 your Highness ; my late arrival placed me 
 in the rear, and nearer to the conflagration 
 than others ; thus my speedy appearance at 
 the time of need was accidental/' 
 
 ** It is well, but your self applause will 
 not push your fortune. Who are you, and 
 what your name ?'^ 
 
 " My UEwne is Konrad ; Shroder my father 
 is a 'Lutheran pastor, and dwells in the vil- 
 lage below the Castle of Reiterstein. I am his 
 only child ; my views and hopes I mentioned 
 to you, when you condescendingly spoke 
 with me yesterday." 
 
 " You have received,'^ said the Elector 
 " as Reiterstein tells me, a good education.'* 
 
 *^ My father, noble sir, is a pious and a
 
 208 MAURICE, 
 
 learned man, and if I have not profited 
 by his instruction, the fault is mine.^' 
 
 " And would you wish to change your 
 service V* 
 
 "I should, sir, but I have so far engfaged 
 with the Baron, that I could not at present 
 quit him without a breach of faith .'^ 
 
 Maurice smiled. ^' I doubt if the Baron 
 will be difficult on this score; I suspect he 
 will be here anon to crave some leave of 
 absence, and I shall make it conditional 
 that he resigns his claim on you. No doubt 
 we shall find employment for you, if you 
 answer the hopes T have conceived of you. 
 After my interview with the Baron, I will 
 let you know further.'^ 
 
 He bowed, and Konrad left the tent. 
 
 As Maurice had foretold, Reiterstein, in 
 the course of a few days, made his applica- 
 tion for leave of absence, and the Duke in 
 return, requested the transfer of Konrad's 
 service. The Baron could not refuse.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 209 
 
 although, since Hartorflf's report to him in the 
 wood, of the conversation he had held during* 
 the journey with Schwartz, he did not wish 
 to lose sight of, or abandon his power over 
 the youth. He contented himself with be- 
 lieving that Maurice would keep him too 
 constantly employed, to admit of his return 
 to Reiterstein. Konrad, on the other hand, 
 enchanted with his new prospects so far 
 beyond his most sanguine hope, rejoiced to 
 instal his person and his small property, the 
 latter consisting only of his slender valise 
 which looked as if it would benefit in bulk by 
 being sent on the recruiting service,) in his 
 new quarters, leaving a few groschens with 
 the grateful creature whom he had rescued 
 from the flames. 
 
 It was necessary for the Baron, before 
 he left the camp which he had so recently 
 joined, to regulate his military affairs, and 
 issue many minute instructions to Hartorff 
 for his conduct during his absence. This
 
 210 MAURICR, 
 
 delay little suited his inclination, but 
 Maurice was peremptory that the Baron's 
 mercenaries should be left in a state of 
 discipline fit for any service or emergency, 
 and although he used all diligence in bring- 
 ing into some form and order, the disorderly 
 members who daily enlisted themselves 
 under his command, many days elapsed ere 
 he could take his departure. On the tenth 
 morning by early dawn, he was in the 
 saddle, and left the camp at a brisk trot, 
 attended by two stout veteran troopers. 
 We will not follow him minutely on his 
 journey, which he pursued with short in- 
 termissions of rest, towards Luneburg, 
 whose extensive heaths and wide wastes 
 he traversed rapidly ; the close of the 
 fourth day brought him within sight of 
 the venerable convent of Walsrode, the 
 object of his journey. 
 
 A loud summons at the gate called forth 
 the old portress, to whom the Baron signi-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 211 
 
 fied his wish to speak immediately to the 
 lady Abbess. 
 
 '* Wait a while/' she replied, "and let me 
 tell the superior who it is that would see 
 her, and your business.'* 
 
 *' Tell her, the Baron von Reiterstein 
 claims an audience and waits her pleasure. 
 As for my business, it matters not. Come, 
 quick, old crone/' he added, — seeing" the 
 ancient guardian still anxious to learn 
 more before she ventured to announce a 
 stranger into the sanctified presence of the 
 Abbess, — '' I have no time to dally, evening 
 is at hand, and we have still to seek a place 
 for the night's repose." 
 
 *' Old crone indeed,'' retorted she, *'old 
 crone, old crone," increasing in anger as she 
 repeated the disrespectful appellation, "is 
 this a fit speech to one who keeps the gate 
 of Walsrode ; no doubt he calls himself a 
 knight, but by the token of his spurs only, I 
 guess ; his civility to adamsel would not betray
 
 212 MAURICR, 
 
 him as such/* — and still the offensive name 
 by which he had desig-nated her, was mut- 
 tered as she crossed the quadrangle to the 
 entrance of the convent. Leisurely she 
 announced the visiter to the Lady Abbess, 
 commenting', at the same time, upon his 
 unknightly manners. 
 
 "Never mind, good Willfhild, he is a 
 rude soldier, tired with travel, and some- 
 what out of humour ; the sooner I see him 
 the better,'^ — and as Willfhild left the par- 
 lour, she added, in a low tone, "it is a dis- 
 agreeable duty, and I shall be more at ease 
 when it is disposed of. I had hoped that 
 foreign gold would have kept him still far 
 away, and spared me tins meeting." Her 
 pale cheek was tinted with an unusual glow, 
 as she made this reflection. Reiterstein en- 
 tered, and the Abbess rose with stately 
 demeanour to receive him. 
 
 '* Lady, I have come to claim my ward at 
 your hands; I should rather say my bride,
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 213 
 
 for such it is my intention to make her, I 
 would gladly speak with her, and prepare 
 her to quit the home you have so long- 
 granted her. I have journeyed in haste 
 from Magdeburg, and my movements must 
 be rapid. '^ 
 
 " I will not then delay to inform you. 
 Baron," replied the superior, while her full 
 blue eyes gazed steadily upon him, "that it 
 is not in my power to restore to you the 
 lady Clotilda." 
 
 '*What!" exclaimed the Baron, starting, 
 '' is she dead ?" 
 
 '* Not so. Baron; Heaven forbid! that 
 such a sorrow should have befallen me, 
 or that one so fair, so young, so good, 
 should have been called hence in the bright 
 days of her youth.'' 
 
 ''What then,'' said he, ''you have not 
 surely induced her to take the holy habit? 
 Your convent will have added a portionless 
 member to its community."
 
 214 MAURICE, 
 
 " I doubt that/' she replied with meaning*, 
 '^ even if such v/ere the case ; but a*^ain you 
 are wrong in your supposition ; Clotilda has 
 not professed, at least, at our altar/' 
 
 *' Saints in Heaven;" exclaimed Reiter- 
 stein furiously, his dark countenance ex- 
 pressing alarm and anger, " where is she 
 then?' 
 
 ^* She is gone from hence/' replied the 
 Abbess, **and was removed from our care 
 after your departure for Italy." 
 
 "Removed, say you, madam? who dared 
 to remove her ? How dared you to resign 
 to other hands the keeping of a ward of 
 mine, intrusted to you by me? How 
 dared—" 
 
 " Hold, hold," interrupted the Abbess 
 with calm dignity, " I dare do much without 
 the Baron Reitersteiii's permission, who 
 brought me no documents to prove the 
 maiden a ward of his, and who deceived me 
 by falsehood, and lulled all suspicion by spe-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 215 
 
 cious deception ; I dared to obey the au- 
 thority of those higher in power, higher 
 in sanctity than him/' 
 
 **And may I ask, reverend lady, who were 
 those in authority audacious enough to 
 usurp mine?'' 
 
 " I may not tell, sir/' she steadily replied ; 
 " nor more than this, that Clotilda is not 
 here, I know not where she may be, and if I 
 did, my lips should be sealed in silence, f 
 have rendered you all the information I may 
 give, and nearly all that is in ray posses- 
 sion. The main fact I have truly stated, 
 that she is not here, and that she was 
 taken hence by those who had more right 
 to remove her, than I to detain her." She 
 then bowed gravely and quitted the par- 
 lour. 
 
 To endeavour to pourtray Reiterstein's 
 rage, would be a waste of words, for none 
 could be found of suflScient force to express 
 it. Every angry demon seemed maddening
 
 216 MAURICE, 
 
 in his brain. His eyes were bloodshot 
 with passion ; he stamped impotently on the 
 floor, he swore he would back to Magdeburg* 
 for his men, raze the convent, devote to de- 
 struction its inmates, carry fire and sword 
 through the province. By degrees this 
 frantic violence subsided, and he resolved 
 to seek in every corner of the empire for 
 the innocent victim who had eluded his 
 grasp. Such a misadventure he had never 
 anticipated ; he conceived, that like a miser's 
 hidden treasure, Clotilda was secured from 
 human knowledge ; that there was no one 
 living who had power to claim her ; that he 
 could abstract her at will from the convent ; 
 and that there were none who could deny 
 his right to do so. Who could come between 
 him and his prize ? Whoever they might be, 
 they should feel his vengeance. What clue 
 had he by which to recover her? None. 
 Again he sent to request speech with the 
 lady Abbess, but she sent him word that she
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 217 
 
 had no further communication to make. Much 
 agitated by this interview, she retired to her 
 chamber. She well knew of what the Baron 
 was capable ; fortunately she was shielded 
 by the strong arm of the church, which, 
 although shaken by the rapid diffusion of 
 the new doctrines which received support 
 from some of the electors and princes 
 in the northern states of Germany, still re- 
 tained an overbalance of power under the 
 Emperor^s protection ; in all cases it could 
 assert its rights, and was enabled to pre- 
 serve its sanctuaries from desecration, and 
 its immunities from violation. Thus she 
 remained buried in thought, long after her 
 unwelcome visiter had departed, and until 
 the closing day warned her that it was 
 time to arouse from her meditations. A 
 small silver bell summoned a lay sister. 
 
 " Gertrude, I wish to see Schramm; seek 
 him in the garden, he is ever late among 
 
 VOL. I. li
 
 21S MAURICE, 
 
 his flowers. If not there, let him be found 
 and sent to me." 
 
 Again she relapsed into thought, from 
 which she was diverted by a faint 
 tap at the door, and Gertrude presented 
 herself, followed by a person somewhat 
 remarkable in appearance. He was clad in 
 a doublet and hoseof gray serge, and held in 
 his hand a cloth bonnet of the same colour. 
 Of his height it was not easy to judge, for 
 he was bowed and bent, either by infirmity 
 or labour. His person was attenuated to 
 extreme leanness. A deep scar across his 
 forehead, extending to the cheek which was 
 pale, gave rather a ghastly expression to 
 his face, which his scanty grisled hair, 
 leaving his forehead bare, did not relieve. 
 His eyes were gray and sunken, and yet with 
 these symptoms of age, you would not have 
 pronounced him to have been a man of fifty. 
 His eyes were downcast, and there was 
 trepidation in his manner. He advanced, 
 bowing respectfully.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 219 
 
 ''Daughter/' said the Abbess, addressing- 
 Gertrude, ** you may leave us/' 
 
 When the door was closed, she beckoned 
 for her visiter to approach, which he did 
 until he came close to her side. 
 
 ^' Madam," he said in a whisper, ** I ex- 
 pected this summons. I have seen him, 
 and know his errand.'* 
 
 "1 trust,'' she replied, *^that he did not 
 recognise you." 
 
 *' No, Madam," he replied in the same low 
 tone, " he did not see me, and if he had, it 
 is not likely that he would have known 
 me, unless conscience had carried back 
 his memory, and then he would have be- 
 lieved that the murdered haunted him, — that 
 the grave had given up its dead.*' — 
 
 " I dread him," said the Abbess with a shud- 
 der, *'and would take some counsel of you. 
 Think you that he will discover Clotilda ?" 
 
 "If art or villany, lady, can compass it, 
 he will," 
 
 L 2
 
 220 MAURICE, 
 
 '' He stated," continued the superior, 
 " that he must return forthwith to Mag"- 
 deburg-, but in truth T was too eager 
 to rid myself of his presence to ask him any 
 questions. I marvel that our good father 
 Augustine hath not journeyed hither as he 
 promised. His absence induces me to be- 
 lieve that he is watching her safety : still I 
 would wish to be assured that they are 
 warned of his return.^^ 
 
 **Give me your commands, lady, and 
 neither danger nor distance shall prevent 
 my search : Heaven grant that I may not 
 leave this life vvithout offering some atone- 
 ment for the evil I have wrought. Oh ! think 
 you, pious lady,'^ added the unhappy man, 
 while the tears dropped from his eyes, "that 
 there can be pardon for such sins as mine ?" 
 
 " True repentance, Schramm, will find 
 mercy at the throne of Him who searches 
 all hearts ; happily for you yonr sin did not 
 prosper you, and the seducer of your virtue
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 22l 
 
 hath been the chastiser of your crime/^ 
 You sought gold ; — he denied it to you ; 
 you were enticed by love for one, who 
 proved herself faithless, and left you for the 
 arms of your and her betrayer. His secret 
 was not safe while you lived ; he waylaid to 
 assassinate you, and hoped by your death 
 that no witness would remain to appear 
 against him; and your child, whom your 
 faithless and miserable wife, believing you 
 no more, confided to him ere she died, has 
 been lost to you. If revenge animates your 
 zeal, your proclaimed repentance is but self- 
 deception, and will not be acceptable to 
 Him, who promises to us forgiveness as we 
 learn to forgive.^' 
 
 Schramm bowed his head. "Alas Madam ! 
 then dare I not hope for mercy ? Hath he 
 not corrupted my soul, seduced me from home 
 and virtue, seared and maimed my body, 
 robbed me of the wife of my bosom, torn 
 from me my child, left me an outcast, and
 
 222 MAURICE, 
 
 rendered my life a loathsome burthen, my 
 body an object for compassion and scorn, and 
 my mind borne down by sin and remorse? 
 Surely such crimes as his cannot meet par- 
 don, even from on high.'^ 
 
 " Of this, Schramm, it is not for us to 
 judge, nor the amount of retribution which 
 may be awarded to him in another life. In 
 those realms above, where the Father of all 
 reigns in his everlasting glory, will he be 
 judged, and suffer for the evil which he hath 
 consummated in this transitory world ; but 
 had he not done all these wrongs to you, 
 you might have persevered in your infa- 
 mous career, and shared with him hereafter 
 that condemnation, which you believe will be 
 passed upon him : his crimes towards you, I 
 devoutly hope, will prove the means of your 
 salvation. Go, Schramm, and pray rather 
 that repentance may visit his darkened soul, 
 ere the last account be demanded of him.*' 
 
 "I will, lady; indeed I will, nor shall
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 223 
 
 one of your soothing- and holy words bloom 
 without producing- fruit upon the heart of 
 the wretched but repentant sinner before 
 you/' 
 
 Reverently he bowed upon the Abbess's 
 hand, saying*: — 
 
 '' As T know you would wish, so I will 
 do,'' and slowly withdrew. 
 
 In the morning, Schramm was searched 
 for in vain.
 
 824 MAURICE, 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Maurice had discovered some symptoms of 
 discontent among the troops, which now 
 broke out into open mutiny. Their pay 
 was already in arrear ; many did not like 
 the service, and were backward and luke- 
 warm in their duties ; such were chiefly the 
 German Protestants ; but his master spirit 
 from time to time quelled these murmurs, 
 and dangerous outbreaks. His genius, even 
 more fertile in moments of difficulty and 
 danger, was ever on the alert to turn all
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 225 
 
 events, however unfavourable their aspect, 
 to his own account : watchful and enter- 
 prising-, no opportunity escaped his vigi- 
 lance, or was lost by his inactivity; his 
 delay therefore before Magdeburg the more 
 puzzled those who served under him, and 
 were accustomed to the rapidity and cor- 
 rectness of his judgment, and the celerity of 
 his operations. Autumn was at hand, but 
 his plans had been long matured, and now 
 the season for the preliminaries to their 
 execution began to press. He knew that he 
 stood in a doubtful relation with both par- 
 ties, Protestant and Catholic ; but this con- 
 viction neither accelerated nor retarded his 
 movements; his refined policy enabled him 
 to keep both at bay ; his game was so fixed 
 in his own mind, tlie chances so nicely 
 weighed and balanced, that he felt assured 
 he could play it at the time most consonant 
 with his own views, and win it. 
 
 There were but few slight, elevatio.is to 
 
 L 5
 
 226 MAURICE, 
 
 relieve the uniformity of the plain, upon 
 which the encampment was formed, but to- 
 wards the site of Maurice's tent, the ground 
 sloped slightly upwards, and the few feet 
 attained by this inclination gave him a view 
 of his outspread forces ; with folded arms 
 he gazed below; an involuntary sarcastic 
 smile played on his lip, as he reflected how 
 adroitly he moved and regulated these pup- 
 pets, — each striving for his individual in- 
 terests, — whilst he, without their perception, 
 combined and directed their ambition, pride, 
 envy, vanity, cupidity, fanaticism, party 
 feuds, private animosities and jealousies, all 
 to his own purposes. A feeling of contempt 
 for his own species stole over him, thus to 
 find beings so blinded by their own puerile 
 and ignoble schemes, and base passions, 
 that unconsciously and subserviently they 
 worked out the will of a transitory being 
 like themselves. But mentally he ex- 
 claimed : —
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 227 
 
 •'Tbey have done it, and shall do it still ; 
 nay, the proudest, and the highest of all 
 these insects of an hour, one to whom all 
 knees are bent, who rules o'er lands and 
 draws the wealth of mountains, mines, and 
 vallies his eye hath never seen, by the 
 power and terror of his name alone, who 
 can condemn to gibbet, sword, and flame, 
 swarms of the human race who will not" 
 read their creed like his, whose policy will 
 be the theme of after days, and strain the 
 wisest intellects to fathom and dissect: — he 
 too shall feel that Maurice is his over- 
 match, and be compelled by him to leave 
 free thoughts to men, who struggle for the 
 right to offer at their altars pure worship to 
 their God, untrammelled by despotic laws, 
 proclaiming death or obedience to priest- 
 craft, bigotry and superstition. ^Twas God 
 who called thee, Charles, to thy high destiny 
 — 'twas He who gave the sword of justice 
 into thy hands, and knowledge of His holy
 
 228 MAURICE, 
 
 book to temper it with mercy. But fire and 
 flame have overspread thy foreign lands, — 
 priestcraft has been upheld by thee, and 
 His most precious testament hath been 
 perverted as thy plea to yoke the souls of 
 men, and stain its sainted leaves with spots 
 of blood. He hath consigned the infliction 
 of His wrath and punishment of thee to 
 humbler hands ; those lands, at least, where 
 Maurice rules, shall see no faggots blaze, 
 unhallowed oflferings to Him who reigns 
 above. 'Tis hard to sacrifice such hordes 
 of men ; but more cruel far to leave inter- 
 minable war and slavery of soul to gene- 
 rations yet unborn." 
 
 As these high thoughts swept rapidly 
 through the mind of Maurice, he looked 
 upwards to the vast expanse above him, 
 glittering with unnumbered stars. One 
 splendid meteor blazed for a moment, and 
 darting fell athwart the sky. 
 
 '*'Tis ominous," said Maurice; *' well!
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 229 
 
 be it so, if thus He wills. Before I fall 
 like yonder meteor, my work will be well 
 nigh accomplished, and my destiny ful- 
 filled ;" and slowly he turned towards his 
 tent. 
 
 Konrad was awaiting his coming. Throw- 
 ing his cap upon the floor, he seated him- 
 self at the table, mused for a few moments 
 on the plans before him, and dismissed 
 Konrad. As the latter retreated, the curtain 
 of the tent was drawn aside, and the tall 
 figure of the monk presented itself in the 
 opening. He bowed slightly, and advanced 
 to the table. 
 
 "Welcome, good priest, most welcome.'* 
 *' I fear, Prince, that I am more tardy 
 than I promised ; but T have made the best 
 speed I could.'' 
 
 ''You have delayed a few hours only, 
 Father, but I greatly need your aid." 
 " As peace maker I trust, Prince ?" 
 " Even so;" and now Maurice detailed his
 
 230 MAURICE, 
 
 plans, and the occurrences of the last tew 
 days. 
 
 "And may I enquire of your Highness 
 what leave you have granted to Reiterstein V 
 
 *' Rather more than enough to come and 
 go. I was obliged to allow him some days 
 grace, lest he should suspect I knew his 
 errand." 
 
 '' He will then,'^ said the friar musingly, 
 ''make a hasty visit to Reiterstein, and 1 
 much fear, spite of all precaution, will 
 pounce upon his prey." 
 
 '^ How so V 
 
 ^' Because he will send scouts in every 
 direction, and that unfortunate detention at 
 the woodman^s hut will put him on the 
 scent, if he chance to pass that way.'^ 
 
 '^ Not a moment must be lost," replied the 
 Elector, " we have yet, I trust, some short 
 time to provide for her security ; he cannot 
 already have left Walsrode. Now, friend, to 
 your rest, and I will summon Konrad."
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 231 
 
 Two hours before noon, on the following 
 day, Konrad accompanied by a flag of 
 truce was before the gates of Magdeburg. 
 Mansfeldt commanded him to be admitted. 
 He was speedily conducted into the gover- 
 nor's presence, and having delivered the 
 dispatches with which he was charged, 
 waited respectfully at. some paces distant 
 while the Count perused them. 
 
 Mansfeldt pondered for some moments, 
 and having made a sign to the attendants to 
 withdraw, beckoned for the young man to 
 advance. 
 
 '' Are you acquainted with the contents of 
 these dispatches?" 
 
 Konrad replied in the negative, and stated 
 that he was newly enlisted in the Elector's 
 service. 
 
 ^' You would then deem it most prudent 
 that I should give my answer in writing?" 
 
 '' I thougnt it right, sir, to put you on 
 your guard, as owing to my brief sojourn 
 with the Duke, I have as yet had no oppor-
 
 232 MAURICE, 
 
 tunity of proving" my fidelity. From my 
 present mission you might suppose that I 
 was in his confidence/' 
 
 Mansfeldt smiled, for he perceived that 
 Maurice, with his usual clear sightedness, 
 had selected, as his messenger, the one most 
 calculated to conciliate his prejudices. He 
 moved forward to summon again his at- 
 tendants, when Konrad drew nearer, and 
 said : 
 
 " I am further charged, Count, with a com- 
 munication to one of your prisoners ;'* at the 
 same time drawing from his bosom a packet. 
 
 " I would humbly pray your permission 
 to deliver this. It is unsealed, and the con- 
 tents regard alone the person, to whom it 
 is addressed. I promised if possible to 
 deliver it myself, and be the bearer of the 
 answer." 
 
 The Count received the letter, and ob- 
 served :
 
 THE ELECTOR OP SAXONY. 233 
 
 ''^As part of my duty, charged as I am 
 with the preservation and defence of this 
 city, I ought perhaps to demand by whom it 
 was delivered to your care/* 
 
 *' I have no hesitation in anticipating your 
 question, sir : Father Augustine confided it 
 to my charge." 
 
 " 'Tis well/* said the Count, and summon- 
 ing those in waiting, desired them to request 
 the presence of Sir Otho, to whom on his 
 entrance he presented the letter. 
 
 Otho retired with evident marks of anx- 
 iety and trepidation to the window. An 
 inclosure dropped on the floor, which he 
 quickly regained, pressed to his lips, and 
 then impatiently perused. Turning, he said 
 earnestly : — "Have I your permission. 
 Count, to charge this youth with a reply to 
 these papers V 
 
 '^Granted, Sir Otho, for I doubt if treach- 
 ery would find such sanction from your lips 
 as that precious billet hath received anon ; 
 an hour, I trust, will suffice to prepare our 
 despatches.'*
 
 234 MAURICE, 
 
 He motioned for Konrad to withdraw^ 
 who was conducted by the attendants in 
 waiting to the hall. We will leave them 
 for a while, and amuse ourselves with a 
 separate scene of the drama, which has 
 been progressing, while we have been wan- 
 dering over the country, as true chroniclers 
 of the ways and actions of our other migra- 
 tory characters. 
 
 It would be tedious to move the hands of 
 our time - piece backward, and note each 
 minute as it passed. It will suffice to give 
 a bold outline, and state that, since George 
 of Mecklenburg's separation from his friend, 
 he had abandoned the reins of his reason, 
 and given a wild career to his hopes and 
 imagination ; and was now as deeply in 
 love as complete idleness, opportunity, and 
 an ardent temperament permitted. He 
 suffered no doubts to check his pursuit, for 
 although not a vain man, he could forqa no 
 conception that his suit, if once declared,
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 235 
 
 could encounter opposition, or that any 
 previous claim could be preferred to his 
 pretensions ; nor was any coquetry on 
 Mathilda^s part necessary to induce this 
 self-confidence. It was his nature in lore 
 or war, to bear down all opposition, and 
 arrogate to himself supreme power. 
 
 Mathilda could not suppose that he would 
 indulg-e in hopes unwarranted by her manner 
 to him, and at variance with her father's 
 intention of bestowing- her hand upon her 
 cousin. As love is apt to render the vision 
 more acute, and even to magnify the objects 
 it represents, Henry saw more clearly the 
 state of the Duke's affections, but Mathilda 
 gave him no cause for jealous fears ; the 
 glances of tenderness or approbation from 
 her soft eye, were ever for him ; the 
 pointed jest or gentle word, for his ear ; the 
 trusting confidence, for his counsel ; he 
 watched to shield, but did not doubt.
 
 236 MAURICE, 
 
 The trio were passing- through the hall, 
 while Konrad was waiting there for his 
 despatches. The Duke's eye caught the 
 form of the stranger, and addressing one 
 of the halberdiers, who was parading the 
 hall, demanded if he were a prisoner. The 
 man replied, he believed the youth was 
 waiting the Count's pleasure. 
 
 "His unstained, modest looking jerkin,*' 
 said Henry, "bears a peaceable aspect; 
 they seem to have made him welcome to a 
 hard bench, and an empty board.'' 
 
 "Alas!" said Mathilda, "such parsimony 
 is a sign of the times, for war and hos- 
 pitality are sadly at variance. I foresee 
 with grief the straits to which our good 
 Town may be reduced : already I fear the 
 hand of famine begins to press his bony 
 fingers in fellowship with some of our 
 poorer classes of citizens." 
 
 " Hush ! hush !" said Henry, " we 
 must not betray our possible privations.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 237 
 
 It would be as well to question that sober 
 looking" youth : he may take notes, and 
 carry a report of your speech to the camp." 
 Our famished looks/^ obserTcd the Duke 
 laughing, " would hardly bear him out, if 
 he sketches them also in his tablets." 
 
 Mathilda turned, and saw the blush of in- 
 dignation on Konrad's face, as these as- 
 persions of his honesty were bandied. It 
 was an evidence that their conversation had 
 not passed unheeded by him, and as certain 
 a one, that it would not travel beyond the 
 limits of the hall. 
 
 ''Good youth/^ continued Henry address- 
 ing Konrad, " we wish to learn your privilege 
 for listening to our speech ?" 
 
 ''The Count's commands,^' he replied, " to 
 wait his pleasure here.'' 
 
 '' And did the Count instal you in the 
 office of eaves dropper?" 
 
 " Nature, sir, gave me the sense of hear- 
 ing, and honour hath taught me not to
 
 238 MAURICE, 
 
 misuse the gift, or the information it may 
 chance unwittingly to place in my posses- 
 sion. This, I hope, will be sufficient to satisfy 
 your misgivings, if I have gathered hints 
 from a conversation which I did not seek 
 to hear.** 
 
 *^You have been too hard, Henry, and un- 
 like yourself/^ said Mathilda ; " why suspect 
 the youth's intentions to be unworthy V 
 
 "'Twas wrong," whispered Henry, *^ but 
 peril begets suspicion, and remember how 
 much I possess within this fortress, to render 
 its security the object of my life." 
 
 Henry gently drew her arm within his 
 own, and passed through the hall. They 
 were met at the upper end by a page, with a 
 summons from the Count for his nephew^s 
 immediate attendance. 
 
 He fqund his uncle in close conference 
 with Count Heideck. We will not fore- 
 stal our narrative by detailing the particu- 
 lars of this interview. In the space of an
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 239 
 
 hour he returned, and accompanied Konrad 
 to Mansfeldt's presence. 
 
 As they traversed the passages leading to 
 his apartment, Henry's manner apologized 
 for the roughness of his first salutation ; he 
 observed, that in the present critical posi- 
 tion of the town and fortress, it was the duty 
 of every one connected with its safety, to be 
 on the alert against spies or treachery. 
 
 "Believe me, sir/^ said Konrad, '^ the 
 Elector is incapable of such means to carry 
 out his views." 
 
 ** Report says," replied Henry, '* that he 
 is a crafty Prince, and uses policy to back 
 his valour.^' 
 
 "True, sir, but both are of the highest 
 grade, and if he had thus descended, he 
 would have chosen an abler messenger." 
 
 This short parley brought <^hem to the 
 door of the Count^s private chamber. It was 
 a small but lofty room, panelled with dark 
 oak; — the windows narrow, but high and
 
 240 MAURICE, 
 
 deeply splayed, shewing" the immense thick- 
 ness of the walls. A suit of inlaid russet 
 armour ready for immediate use, with a few 
 prime arquebusses, pikes, and pistols, were 
 suspended from the Avails. The flooring- 
 was of oak, corresponding with the panels, 
 with a low door nearly opposite to the one 
 of usual entrance. 
 
 Konrad was desired to give his signature 
 for the paper delivered into his charge, and 
 was again conducted to the gates by Henry, 
 who by Mansfeldt's order, whispered to him, 
 before parting, the pass word for the night. 
 
 The Duke, in the mean time, had not been 
 idle ; upon some pretence he had lingered 
 and detained Mathilda in the corridor, and 
 there with his wonted vehemence, declared 
 his passion. Surprise and distress rendered 
 her incapable of reply, while the Duke 
 continued to pour out his impassioned ha- 
 rangue. 
 
 "Fortune, at last, fair Mathilda, has
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 241 
 
 befriended me ; and granted me the oppor- 
 tunity of offering that homage, which, from 
 the day of my captivity, has panted on my 
 lips. I have been doubly a captive, but an 
 unrepining, and to you, a willing one ; and 
 my release can bring no joy, unless assured 
 that your fair hands will bind me anew in 
 dearer bonds.'' 
 
 '* You surprise and grieve me, Duke; I 
 thought that you were aware of the engage- 
 ment between my cousin and myself ; I 
 lament that, unconsciously, I have induced 
 you into a belief that my attachment could 
 change its object, or that in my desire to 
 render your residence among us less irk- 
 some, 1 have misled you into a declaration 
 of affection, which 1 blush to receive, and 
 cannot return. 1 will not prolong your 
 wanderings in error, which I did not anti- 
 cipate, and which cause me infinite con- 
 cern/* 
 
 *' Is it possible, fairMathilda, that woman's 
 
 VOL I. M
 
 242 MAURICE, 
 
 vaaity hath never whispered to thy heart, 
 the inevitable fate of those, who flutter like 
 g"iddy moths around thy light of beauty ? 
 Thinkest thou, that unless allured into the 
 vortex of thy numberless attractions, I 
 could contentedly have left my sword to 
 rust within its scabbard, and borne so pa- 
 tiently a captivity, which beyond all other 
 ills, I dreaded most?" 
 
 '*I am no judge, Prince, of your motives 
 for bearing, with becoming- fortitude, an 
 evil you could not remedy. I conceived 
 that your magnanimity pointed out to you 
 the best method of enduring-, unrepiningly, 
 your misfortune. By my father's desire, my 
 poor exertions were joined to aid you in tole- 
 rating- a probation we felt must be at best, 
 a hard one. We could not foretell that our 
 limited endeavours could have been so 
 misconstrued. 1 might well retort the 
 charge of vanity," she added with some 
 asperity, '' if you can indulge in hopes
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 243 
 
 scarcely honourable, to supersede my cou- 
 sin Henry in the affection of his affianced 
 bride.'' 
 
 '^ His bride V quoth the Duke in wrath, 
 ** a stripling", whose blade has but recently 
 flashed its maiden light, and knows only of 
 deeds of war from nursery tales. He, thy 
 father's ward, with name and station yet 
 unknown ; he to o'erstep the claims of 
 George of Mecklenburg/' 
 
 *^'Tis even so,'\ replied the maiden, 
 piqued by his contempt for her favoured 
 cousin ; "Henry will prove*, as he has done, 
 his valour when occasion needs, and that is 
 what a woman loves in her protector, and 
 not the eternal clash and talk of arms ; 
 the pipe of peace is preferable to the fear- 
 ful whoop of war ;" then calmly added, 
 '^ Henry hath my father's consent and mine." 
 
 "A covenant," said the Duke, "to join 
 possessions, and he is welcome to his lordly 
 
 M 2
 
 244 MAURICE, 
 
 fiefs ; my sword shall win a dowry and jew- 
 els rare to deck my bride." 
 
 " You must wed an araazon then, Duke/' 
 she retorted, almost amused by this novel 
 mode of wooing; *' gauds wrested from 
 others by such violent means^ would be 
 ill-suited for a female's wear, barring the 
 plumes to shade her eyes from scenes un- 
 fitted for her sight ; but you forget that the 
 Emperor has deprived us of lands and 
 wealth." 
 
 *^ If this suit you not, lovely Mathilda, I 
 will dedicate my arms to your favourite 
 Otho's patron saint, and learn like him to 
 lisp soft numbers to a lute, watch your 
 cunning fingers as they ply the silver 
 threads, and breathe into your ear the 
 tales of sunny lands as he does, provided 
 such sacrifices will wan you to a kinder 
 mood." 
 
 ''They will not. Prince; my faith is 
 plighted, and had Sir Otho used his talents
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 245 
 
 to lure me to a breach of it, they would 
 have been as distastetul to me, as your wild 
 wooing". Do not, I entreat, mar your own 
 peace and mine, by a repetition of such 
 declarations, for indeed they will avail you 
 nothing", but rob you of the friendship I 
 freely oflfer." 
 
 ** I see it all,'' said George distractedly, 
 " your cousin's suit is but the plea to shield 
 my favoured rival." 
 
 " Your doubts are anything but courteous 
 Duke; if guilty of so mean a subterfuge, I 
 should be unworthy of the homage of 
 a true knight ; it would be beneath me 
 to combat further such an accusation ;" 
 and Mathilda withdrew, leaving her im- 
 petuous lover discouraged, but not sub- 
 dued. —
 
 246 MAURIOR, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The bells of church and tower were giving 
 out their lengthened sounds to the hour of 
 nine as two figures passed in earnest con- 
 versation up the middle aisle of St. Mau- 
 rice's cathedral. The voices of the speak- 
 ers scarcely reached a higher tone than a 
 whisper. As they confined their promenade 
 strictly to the centre of the broad long 
 aisle, no one could approach within earshot 
 undiscovered. 
 "It is even so/' said the elder speaker;
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 247 
 
 '' Maurice's desire is to spare the city and 
 the citizens, but the terms of surrender 
 must be such as to satisfy the Emperor ; he 
 pledges his faith to mitigate them hereafter, 
 as may be agreed upon beforehand, tole- 
 ration equally to those of our church 
 must be the prominent article assured in 
 the convention." 
 
 *^ Fear not, monk, my ready compliance 
 with this demand ; our church, unless infu- 
 riated to retaliation, is meek and peaceful, 
 and does not require coercion to extend and 
 support its pure and simple doctrines, nor 
 have we any right to invade the privileges or 
 worship of our catholic citizens, they have 
 not suffered, and they shall not suff'er wrong 
 while I command in Magdeburg." 
 
 ** *Tis well. Count ; the Elector demands 
 personal communication with yourself, as 
 time and place may best suit for both 
 parties, and lastly, he prefers a request, 
 not a condition.''
 
 248 MAURICE, 
 
 " Name it, good monk ; T am not disposed 
 to refuse Duke Maurice any boon, which 
 may come within the bounds of my duty 
 and ability : I feel confident, that he would 
 not harass me by any proposition to trans- 
 gress the one, or go beyond the compass of 
 the other." 
 
 The monk's whispered request caused the 
 Count to ponder for a short space ; he then 
 replied : — 
 
 " Most readily, father, I will grant the 
 Duke's desire, if Heideck should approve the 
 concession ; believe me, to do so will yield me 
 as much gratification as the Elector or your- 
 self can experience in obtaining it ; at this 
 hour to-morrow meet me here, and you 
 shall have my final answer ; I trust it may 
 be the one I wish to give." 
 
 They then separated— the monk disap- 
 peared among the cloisters, and the Count 
 re-entered the Castle. 
 
 In the evening subsequent to this inter-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 249 
 
 view, but at rather a later hour, four persons 
 similarly clad iu holy garb slowly and 
 silently bent their steps to the gates of 
 Magdeburg. But few words were ex- 
 changed at parting, two only of the party 
 passed the barriers, and proceeded to the 
 camp. The pass word secured them from 
 interruption, and they reached Maurice's 
 tent unmolested. Ere the moon was 
 high in the heavens, a troop of twenty 
 horsemen armed to the teeth, were cross- 
 ing the plain at a brisk pace. 
 
 One of the two persons who quitted the 
 fortress two hours previously, had exchanged 
 his cowl for a light coat of mail and helm ; 
 he rode a little in advance of the others 
 with a companion ; the latter was armed 
 with sword and pistols, his body was en- 
 cased in a doublet of thick leather ; and a 
 dark blue cloak of stout cloth, a plain steel 
 skull-cap protected his head. 
 
 For many miles the country which they 
 
 M 5
 
 250 MAURICE, 
 
 traversed was level, and would have given 
 evidences of fertility, if Duke George had 
 not devastated the fields, and burned the 
 farms and villages. Towards the confines 
 of the territory of Magdeburg, marshes in 
 places, somewhat perilous to cross, and 
 thick woods, rendered their progress after 
 a while more tedious, and their chargers 
 were frequently floundering deep above 
 their fetlocks in the swampy pools ; still 
 they kept their course onward, in a com- 
 pact body ; and had traversed many weary 
 leagues ere they gave themselves and their 
 steeds some rest. The commander of this 
 small troop appeared to possess unlimited 
 control over the wills of his men ; they 
 were emulous to anticipate his orders, and 
 a sign seemed a sufficient communication to 
 regulate their movements. There was only 
 occasionally an interchange of words be- 
 tween him and his comrade, but those brief 
 sentences were apparently earnest, and of
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 251 
 
 deep interest to both. Three hours after 
 day-break, they entered a small hamlet; 
 the assurance of payment and peaceful in- 
 tentions soon produced the best entertain- 
 ment the miserable g-asthaus afforded, which 
 was scarcely palatable even to hung^ry tra- 
 vellers ; but mine host was assiduous, and 
 the provisions contained in the village, in 
 addition to the produce of his meagre larder, 
 furnished sufiicient edibles to ward oflf the 
 immediate cravings of appetite. The lead- 
 ers of the party quickly partook of their 
 breakfast, and were anxiously engaged in 
 laying down the plans for further and speedy 
 progress, but brief as our notice has been 
 of their wayfaring, we must leave them for a 
 time. 
 
 It would be supererogatory to trace their 
 travel through bye ways and woods — their 
 difficulties in finding- fords over the tribu- 
 tary streams which feed the mercantile Elbe, 
 their short cuts across the country, in order
 
 J^52 MAURICE, 
 
 to attain the ultimate point of their journey 
 with the least possible delay, or the torment- 
 ing- anxieties which they endured when 
 unforeseen obstacles impeded their speed, — 
 their hard riding, scanty fare, and repose 
 rather for their horses and men than for 
 themselves, in miserable hovels or villages 
 reduced to ashes, the embers of which, were 
 still reeking from the incendiary flames. — 
 The few inhabitants who had saved them- 
 selves by timely flight and had ventured to 
 return to search for some traces of lost 
 children, parents, or friends among the 
 smouldering ruins of their homes, were too 
 destitute and famished to yield food or 
 shelter even in exchange for gold. Our 
 readers can readily imagine all this, in an 
 era when Germany was not as it now is, — 
 the resort of tourists for health, information, 
 or pleasure; not as it now is, — the abode of 
 civilization, learning, arts and commerce; 
 but as it was in the middle of the sixteenth
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 253 
 
 century, when the dark clouds of the middle 
 ag-es were but slowly clearing away, when 
 religious war distracted the country, and 
 the little learning existing in states, which 
 now stand preeminent in literature and the 
 arts, was confined to scattered monasteries, 
 or the few more recently founded universi- 
 ties. What between the remains of vas- 
 salage, the imperfectly suppressed, and 
 hitherto almost licensed robberies and feuds, 
 the peasantry, if they could have obtained, 
 although scantily, some of the comforts of 
 life, dared scarcely to indulge the hope of 
 permanently retaining possession of them ; 
 the property and domestic peace of the 
 nobility were alone secured from invasion 
 by lofty towers, and strongly fortified holds ; 
 (thus it might well be said that every man's 
 house was his castle ;) those who were eman- 
 cipated from vassalage, and possessed the 
 means, talents, and industry to pursue the 
 golden road of commerce, were obliged to 
 seek the neighbouring impregnable fortress
 
 S54 MAURICE, 
 
 of some powerful noble, in order to protect 
 their gains ; or when congregated in suffi- 
 cient numbers, to strengthen their position 
 by surrounding their cities with castellated 
 walls. The peasants with their families, 
 inhabiting lone cottages and villages, were 
 left exposed to oppression and death, under 
 all their most terrifying and terrible aspects 
 of war and plunder. Thus had it been, 
 and thus was it still in a great measure 
 at this epoch ; the population did not in- 
 crease, or improvement ameliorate their 
 condition. Ere the sun of Rome had set, it 
 shed its lingering, but departing glories 
 over Europe ; its beams still for a space re- 
 flected some faint polish over its barbarian 
 invaders, but myriads of unenlightened 
 human beings, like insects from some 
 swampy marsh, extinguished the fading 
 light ; a long and wearisome night of dark- 
 ness and anarchy succeeded ; horror, deso- 
 lation, rapine, and superstition, struggled
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 255 
 
 in contention during- this long obscurity, 
 and man was left to grope his undirected 
 way towards the returning sun ot civiliza- 
 tion ; violence alone gave law — the law to 
 which the feeble were compelled to bend ; 
 the code of Justinian was overwhelmed, 
 and for a time lost as if it had never been ; 
 meanness of condition was slavery ; even 
 that lowliness of state gave no protection. 
 
 Thus ages wore away, ere a misty and 
 slow revolving dawn gave promise of a 
 brighter day. At the present season, the 
 plains of Magdeburg had been in many 
 parts reduced to profitless wastes, by the 
 unsparing hand of selfish and rapacious 
 ambition ; and although historians may term 
 Maurice a crafty politician, as well as an 
 able and brave commander, and although 
 such means can hardly be justified by the 
 most admirable results, still it is to be con- 
 sidered that he contended against one who 
 worked by subtle rules when his resources
 
 256 MAURICE, 
 
 were inadequate, when his arms were un- 
 successful, or their power doubtful, and 
 that although it cannot be denied that his 
 private views of self aggrandizement ap- 
 peared in a great measure to be the spur 
 to the exertion of his abilities, yet, ulti- 
 mately he was the cause of the toleration 
 which was secured to the Lutheran doctrine 
 in 1555, by the treaty of Passau, and that 
 but for his preponderating influence over 
 the other states of Germany, he never 
 could have achieved such a glorious 
 result, — a result so eminently beneficial to 
 posterity.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 *'Go on, good Krantz/' said Clotilda, *' I 
 never weary of these tales of the by-gone 
 days of my parents, and every circumstance 
 connected with them, is dear to me. How 
 befel it that my father could ever trust or 
 harbour one so base as the present repre- 
 gentative of our house.'* 
 
 " He did not trust him, lady, but he could 
 hardly imagine that one so young could be 
 so wicked. He was his cousin, and poor,
 
 258 MAURICE, 
 
 I hough nobly born, and your father who 
 knew no guile himself, offered him a home. 
 He was then but eighteen, and until my be- 
 loved lady^s death was not much with them. 
 She never liked him, nor did any about the 
 Castle ; he was a sullen, hard hearted 
 youth ; and even then gave promise of 
 becoming- what he now is. After your 
 mother's death, he was more frequently an 
 inmate at the Castle, but grief for her loss 
 so preyed upon our dear master, that he 
 took little note of his cousin's proceedings. 
 He came and went as it suited him, and cer- 
 tainly tried every art to win your father's 
 confidence, but there was no sympathy 
 between them, and they passed little ot 
 their time together. As male heir, the 
 Castle would be his, but the lands belonging 
 to the fief were limited, and by no means 
 sufficient to keep up any state." 
 
 *' The allodial possessions, which had 
 been purchased from time to lime by your
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 259 
 
 ancestors, were extensive and fertile, and 
 these were to be your inheritance ; so your 
 father willed it; — that testament fortunately 
 was placed in Father Augustine's keeping ; 
 he had been my lord's tutor and confessor 
 from his youth, and still continued to live with 
 him after his marriage, although often absent 
 on the distant duties of his church. The 
 Baron mad to find that he could not obtain 
 possession of this document, if, as he sus- 
 pected, for he was never told, there was 
 one in the friar^s possession, and not daring 
 to use force, which all ray lord's retainers 
 would have resisted, hit upon the foul 
 scheme of carrying you off; he was not then 
 quite so hardened in crime. Poor old 
 Hilda's son, then a youth, was seduced by 
 him to aid in this vile act; he was attached 
 to your nurse, and by promise of reward 
 and her persuasion, he helped to execute 
 what the other had planned. You may 
 imagine the distraction and confusion at
 
 260 MAURICE, 
 
 the Castle when we missed you. Every 
 search was made in vain, and thus for more 
 than a year, with short intervals only, did 
 the good priest and myself wander in every 
 direction. I was obliged to return home ; 
 from my continual absences, w^e were fast 
 sinking into poverty, and my wife was again 
 about to be confined. The good priest, 
 however, still promised that he would try 
 every means to trace you, and the Baron's 
 villany was the cause of his doing so. He 
 had secreted you with the accomplices of 
 his guilt in a lone hut, on the confines of 
 Luneburg,far from any habitation. Schramm, 
 who was now the husband of your nurse, 
 found that she was as faithless to him, as 
 she had been to her trust of you. He re- 
 proached the Baron with his perfidy, who 
 feigned sorrow and repentance, and basely 
 urged in extenuation, that the poor fellow's 
 wife had used every blandishment to seduce 
 him. Schramm was frantic, and but for the
 
 THE ELECTOR OP SAXONY. 261 
 
 sake of his child, could hardly have borne 
 existence, for he tenderly loved the woman 
 who had betrayed him ; he threatened, in 
 his wrath, to declare to the world the 
 treachery in which he had aided, and to 
 restore you to your rights. No doubt this 
 was repeated by his wife to her seducer, 
 for one evening, as Schramm was returning 
 from Luneburg, where he had been to pur- 
 chase provisions, he was attacked by the 
 Baron and Hartorff, whom the former had 
 lately engaged in his service. They left him 
 for dead ; they had come upon him una- 
 wares, for he believed them far away. At 
 the time, Father Augustine was journeying 
 from Hildesheim to Walsrode, and found 
 him in a wood weltering in his blood, and 
 scarcely alive. He staunched his wounds 
 as well as he was able, and with the assist- 
 ance of some peasants, of whom he went in 
 search, carried him to a cottage. For many 
 weeks, he lay between life and death. As
 
 262 MAURICE, 
 
 soon as he was able to give some account of 
 these transactions, and point out the place 
 of your concealment, the priest sought you 
 out. The wretched woman's conscience was 
 awakened when she heard of the violent 
 death of her husband, for the good father did 
 not tell her that his life was spared. She heap- 
 ed bitter reproaches on herself, and promised 
 faithfully to restore the child ; he bound her 
 to secrecy, until he could l-eturn with means 
 to remove you. Alas 1 when he did so, 
 the hut was deserted, and the good man was 
 as much at a loss as ever to discover where 
 you were concealed. The Baron had won 
 the secret of his visit from the guilty woman. 
 As soon as Schramm was able to work, he 
 found employment in menial and trifling 
 offices in Hildesheim, for his health was too 
 much impaired for hard labour. When the 
 priest returned, after an absence of two 
 years, he found him sinking under poverty, 
 sorrow, and sickness ; he provided him with
 
 THE ELECTOR OP SAXONY. " 263 
 
 some means of subsistence, and sent him to 
 the good Abbess of Walsrode, requesting- 
 her to employ him in the convent gardens. 
 When he had been there for some months 
 Father Augustine's duties called him to 
 the convent, and there he found the trea- 
 sure he had so long sought. It ap- 
 pears, as you know, that the Baron had 
 induced the Abbess to receive you, and 
 requested that she would allow your nurse 
 to remain awhile, until you were accus- 
 tomed to the strangers about you, nor could 
 she refuse the urgent entreaties of the 
 woman not to be parted from you. She, 
 poor creature, did not live a month, and on 
 her death-bed disclosed all her seducer's 
 villany ; but for your sake and the safety 
 of her child, whom she had left in his care, 
 she entreated secrecy. When Schramm ar- 
 rived, she had been dead nearly two years, 
 but he knew not how to convey this infor- 
 mation to his preserver. Schramm's father
 
 264 MAURICE, 
 
 died broken hearted, and poor old Hilda 
 never mentions her son's name. The priest 
 sent me this intelligence as soon as he was 
 able, but bade me do nothing-, as j'ou were 
 in safe hands with the most exemplary of 
 women, who would evade any proposal of 
 Reiterstein to remove you, nor did he pur- 
 pose to do so, until you had attained the 
 ag-e of eighteen, although he occasionally 
 visited the convent, to assure himself of 
 your safe keeping". When you arrived here, 
 you cannot be surprised that I did not know 
 you ; but well I remember your father, ere 
 he died, fastening that cross round your 
 neck ; it was always worn by My Lady. 
 Many accused the good priest of being a 
 party to your abduction; he did not dis- 
 courage the idea, and has never since been 
 in this neighbourhood to be seen of any but 
 myself.'' 
 
 " Alas ! how it grieves me,'' said Clotilda, 
 " to hear so sad a tale of Schramm, but now
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 265 
 
 I can well account for his strange manner, 
 and his melancholy countenance, which 
 seemed as if it had never been crossed by 
 one happy thought, or known one cheerful 
 smile. Now can I understand the cause of 
 those bitter tears which he was wont to 
 shed, when I chanced to meet him alone, 
 or accompanied by the Abbess only in the 
 garden ; he used to look so mournfully in 
 my face ; and then at times when I begged 
 the tempting fruit, he never failed to pluck 
 for me the finest and the ripest ; he would 
 place it in my hands, and rush from me in 
 agony ; early and late would he watch for 
 me, and kindly accede to all my childish 
 whims; plant and replant the little plot of 
 ground assigned for my hours of recreation, 
 as each new fancy took me for some more 
 showy flower ; and that kind Abbess, how 
 gently would she rebuke his sorrow, preach 
 repentance, and hold forth better hopes. I 
 was then too young to understand all this, 
 VOL I. N
 
 266 MAURICE, 
 
 and wondered why so kind a man should 
 grieve, and look, and be so sad : and as I 
 j^rew in years, his watchfulness seemed to 
 increase ; although the high walls enclosed 
 the garden from all without, his eye was 
 always on me ; every sound seemed to 
 startle and alarm him. Upon those occa- 
 sions, which were rare, when the Baron visit- 
 ed the convent, to assure himself that I was 
 still its inmate, though unobserved by him, 
 he was ever loitering near, and I thought at 
 such times I could perceive the handle of a 
 poniard in his vest/' 
 
 *' His treachery,'^ observed Krantz, *^ has 
 fallen heavily on his own head ; sorely 
 has he been visited for his ingratitude to 
 those, who aided his honest parents to rear 
 him.'^ 
 
 "And yet/* replied Clotilda, "how greatly 
 have my parents' virtues sheltered my infant 
 days, when surrounded by peril ; how protect- 
 ed me, when I was unconscious of theneces-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 267 
 
 sity which existed for assistance ; but my 
 child, Krantz, my darling boy, how I tremble 
 for him/' 
 
 **Lady, he thrives, fear not for him; he is 
 safest where he is, till the danger of your 
 present situation be past. At any hour 
 you may be compelled in haste to quit this 
 shelter, as yet his birth is unknown. When 
 the pastor stated to me, that a child had 
 been confided to, or rather forced upon his 
 care and humanity, I advised him, in order 
 to stop all enquiry or idle speculation, in 
 which village gossips might indulge, to say 
 that he was an orphan intrusted to his rear- 
 ing ; but as he was scrupulous on this 
 head, I have spread the report for him. 
 I love not falsehood more than he, but 
 I trust the necessity may excuse the 
 act.—" 
 
 While this conversation was passing at 
 the mill, a feeble and wayworn traveller 
 bent his steps to the village; he often 
 
 N 2
 
 268 MAURICE, 
 
 paused as each remembered spot greeted 
 his searching and anxious eye. He de- 
 scended to the brink of the stream, bathed 
 his face and hands, and entering the village, 
 sat himself down on the stone bench before 
 the small gasthaus, looking up at the 
 Castle towers with a heavy sigh. Voices 
 of merriment within caused him to draw 
 his gray bonnet closely over his brows ; 
 hardly had he done so, before two men made 
 their exit from the house. 
 
 "Come! come ! Brandt,'^ said the younger 
 of the two, ^' thou hast had beer enough ; 
 one would think from thy fondness for that 
 flagon, 'twas thy twin brother ;'' 
 
 Then, looking good-naturedly upon the 
 weary traveller, added — 
 
 '' Thou hadst better bestow the rest of its 
 contents upon this wayfarer, who seems to 
 need some refreshment; it will be doing a 
 charity to thy t>rains, which are well nigh 
 drowned, as well as thy stomach, and then
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 269 
 
 thou mayest chance to find a straighter path 
 homeward/' 
 
 So saying", he took the flagon from him, 
 and presented it to the traveller. 
 
 Brandt looked stupidly on, holding out 
 his hands for the restoration of his idol. 
 
 *' No, no more, go thy way, and sleep 
 thyself sober ere the night watch is set." 
 
 The fellow looked wistfully, but did as he 
 was bidden. 
 
 '* Thanks sir/* said the man, " it is a 
 welcome draught/' 
 
 " You seem rather tired, master, and not 
 over robust for a long journey." 
 
 "And yet/' rejoined the other, "I have 
 within some days trodden many and many 
 aweary league, and in truth am well nigh 
 exhausted, so much so that I doubt if I can 
 travel further to day." 
 
 *' Rest here then, my good friend, mine 
 host will gladly furnish you with a night's 
 lodging."
 
 270 MAURICE, 
 
 '* I love not a gasthaus/* replied the 
 other; "is there no quieter abode to be 
 found, think you, for a weary man V 
 
 '* Upon my faith I know of none, unless 
 old Hilda can help you where to seek one, for 
 she seems to have been born ere the church 
 was built, and knows not only every cottage, 
 but verily I believe every chamber in the 
 village." 
 
 '* Hilda !" said the man with some emo- 
 tion musing, " old, say you ? Is she alone ?" 
 
 ^' I believe so, I have never seen any 
 living thing with her but a jackdaw, who 
 pecks at passengers, and seems to do duty 
 for a house-dog which I reckon she is too 
 poor to keep. I doubt me if the daw, by 
 his cannibal appetite and his ferocity, 
 ever knows the dainty pickings of a few 
 dry crumbs.^^ 
 
 " Will you direct me then, sir, where to 
 find this poor creature ?" 
 
 " Oh ! for the matter of that I will go with
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 271 
 
 you; the old woman hath done me some 
 kindness, and I fear of late I have neglected 
 her ; besides, she is not over fond of 
 strang-ers.'* 
 
 The man took his staflf and bundle, arose, 
 and they quitted the village together. A 
 few minutes walk brought them to Hilda's 
 cottage. She was sitting before her door, 
 plying her distaff as usual. 
 
 *'Ah master/' said she, addressing Ludwig, 
 for it was he who had conducted the traveller, 
 *' I have been watching for you ; I feared 
 you had forgotten the lone old woman. I 
 know not why, I seem to count for your 
 coming ; but whom have you here V 
 
 "A traveller. Dame, who wants a lodging 
 for the night, and finds the gasthaus too 
 full of company to suit his liking, for he is 
 weary. I thought mayhap you could tell 
 him where to find rest for a few hours." 
 
 The traveller, during this short parley, 
 was leaning against the mud walls of the
 
 272 MAURICE, 
 
 cottage, and gazing- on Hilda. He moved 
 at the conclusion of Ludwig's speech, and 
 coming closer to her, scrutinized her features 
 with curious eyes, then entering the cottage 
 into which they followed him, looked around, 
 as if in search of some familiar object. 
 
 " Where gottest thou this old oaken chest. 
 Dame?" he demanded. 
 
 " Got it/' said Hilda ruffled, " what is that 
 to thee, friend V 
 
 Again he looked steadily in her face. 
 
 *^ Had'st thou once a son, Dame V he ex- 
 claimed hurriedly. 
 
 Hilda tottered to a seat, her arms fell 
 helplessly by her sides, and she cried, " I had ; 
 what of him ? knowest thou aught of him ? 
 dost thou bring tidings of him?" 
 
 *' 1 do, for I am he, I am thy son," and 
 he threw himself upon her neck. "The 
 troubles I have brought on thee, and long 
 years, have sadly changed thee, mother." 
 
 Hilda sank fainting from her seat, Lud-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 273 
 
 wig" ran for water, aad having- sprinkled her 
 face, laid her on her pallet. It was some 
 time before she could find utterance, then 
 sitting upj she looked disappointedly at 
 him. 
 
 " No, thou art not he ; he was a blooming 
 youth ; no, it cannot be.'* 
 
 "Indeed I am thy son," and going close 
 to the side of the pallet, he leant over her, 
 and whispered a few words, and the old 
 woman sobbed upon his bosom. 
 
 After a pause Lud wig said, "Dame, as you 
 are better, I will leave you now; I think," 
 turning to the traveller, '^ I need not seek 
 further for a lodging for you." 
 
 '^ Not so, good youth," said the traveller 
 hastily, " I would speak with you before 
 we part; and if time does not press with 
 you, I will beg you to remain a few mo- 
 ments longer, for I must intreat your for- 
 bearance, not to tell any one of my presence 
 in this place. Now one question, mother, 
 
 JS o
 
 274 MAURICE, 
 
 which I dare hardly ask ; knowest thou aught 
 of my boy?" 
 
 "Thy boy r' replied Hilda, " I knew not 
 that thou hadst a son, thou forg-etest that/^ 
 
 '* Oh I no, mother, too well I remember 
 all ; — I dared not seek thee. Years of repent- 
 ance have, I trust, somewhat blotted out 
 mine iniquity and my shame ; I have found 
 thee alive, but where shall I seek my boy, 
 my own Ludwig- V 
 
 Ludwig at this mention of his name, 
 started from his seat ; *' Ludwig said you ?" 
 
 ** Yes, young man, so was my darling, my 
 only one named." 
 
 *^How were you parted from him?'^ de- 
 manded Ludwig in hurried accents. 
 
 "He was left with the Baron Reiterstein, 
 but those who have sought for him since 
 could never gain tidings of him/' 
 
 '^Have you no token, no mark to know 
 him by?" asked Ludwig. 
 
 "Alas ! none ; but they did tell me that his
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 
 
 276 
 
 mother, ere she died, placed her wedding 
 ring around his neck, oflfering a prayer to 
 heaven that he might keep it holier than 
 she had done ; the Baron alone knows his 
 fate," 
 
 ''Should you recognize the ring?" he de- 
 manded in agitation. 
 
 ^' Yes, among thousands." 
 
 Ludwig hastily drew from his vest the 
 ribbon to which was fastened the coin 
 and ring ; this was eagerly examined. 
 
 " This, this, is it ! how came you by it V' 
 
 *^ That I cannot say, but it has ever been 
 mine, t have w orn it thus from childhood.'^ 
 
 Schramm (for it was he) still hardly 
 dared to believe that he beheld his son. 
 His eyes wandered wildly over him ; he 
 arose; he again seated himself ; he pressed 
 his hand upon his heart, as if to keep it 
 within his bosom ; his whole frame was con- 
 vulsed, but he was powerless to weep or 
 speak, as he fell on Lud wig's shoulder.
 
 27Q MAURICE, 
 
 Ludvvig feared to move, or give way to 
 the emotion which agitated him, lest in this 
 direful struggle, he should find life extin- 
 guished in his new found parent : at length 
 in subdued terror, he said, " My Father." 
 
 This tender appeal seemed to recal 
 Schramm's bewildered senses. Tears and 
 sobs at last relieved him. Hilda taking 
 the young man's hand, said affectionately, 
 *'My heart has ever yearned towards him.'' 
 
 Ludwig then related that for some years 
 he was hardily, though kindly reared by 
 some poor peasants. It seemed that the 
 only atonement the Baron made to the un- 
 happy woman whom he had so deeply in- 
 jured, was in the injunction he gave to these 
 people, not to remove the ring from the 
 child's neck. They were superstitious about 
 it, and made the lad promise, when he left 
 them, never to part with it. 
 
 "When the Baron removed him into his 
 own service, Ludwig found that he had no
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 277 
 
 claim of kindred on them; he had never 
 known any name, but that by which he was 
 baptized. Krantz, fearing that Hilda might 
 disclose Schramm's retreat, and endanger 
 his discovery to the Baron, had never told 
 her more than that he lived ; of Ludwig he 
 knew nothing himself. Schramm now re- 
 lated his story to his mother and his son, 
 and then said : 
 
 " Now, Ludwig, it must be evident to you, 
 that my life, and possibly your own, depends 
 upon your prudence.'* 
 
 Ludwig, in his horror at the Baron's 
 complicated villany, exclaimed passionately : 
 
 " And this is the man 1 blindly believed 
 to be my benefactor, the betrayer of my 
 mother, murderer of my father, and thy 
 oppressor," kindly pressing old Hilda's 
 hand. '^This is the man for whom I have 
 shed my blood, for whom I have watched 
 and worked. Ah ! that my sword's point 
 were in his base heart. Father, I can no
 
 278 MAURICE, 
 
 long^er eat that bad man*s bread, or serve 
 such a demon in human form ; but say, are 
 we free, or like so many peasants of these 
 lordly fiefs, the slaves of his will ?" 
 
 *' We are free,'* replied Schramm ; " the 
 father of our loved lord whom I so basely 
 betrayed, declared he v^ould never be served 
 by feudal slaves : he gave freedom to all 
 on his lands, freedom of body, freedom of 
 mind ; nor was that generosity repaid by 
 ingratitude by any, save by me." 
 
 '*This then is the reason,'^ said Ludwig, 
 *^ that the Baron always alludes to his uncle's 
 memory with sneers and reproaches. Ser- 
 vice of mine shall he never have more ; 
 to his face will T dare him, and accuse him 
 of his crimes/' 
 
 " Forbear ! my son, forbear ! calm your- 
 self, 1 will seek Krantz to-morrow ; now 
 leave us, lest you be missed/' 
 
 " My Father, I have time to spare ; and 
 besides I command at the Castle during that
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 279 
 
 villain's absence. It wants two hours to 
 sun down ; tell me, what will you that I do V 
 
 " This, my son, that by word or deed, you 
 let no one guess this meeting. Not our lives 
 alone, but those of others may be endangered 
 by such an indiscretion. If you are silent 
 and watchful, you may aid, and perhaps,*' 
 he added with a groan, "repair the mischief 
 which I have done." 
 
 *' I see it," said Ludwig, "and solemnly 
 promise I will keep counsel ; but you want 
 food, which my poor grandmother, I am 
 sure, cannot supply ;" and hurriedly he 
 darted from the cottage. He had hardly 
 departed, when a w^histle announced to 
 Hilda, that the miller was at hand. He had 
 brought a measure of flour for his poor 
 neighbour. He was not a little surprised 
 to find a stranger occupying a seat by her 
 side. Hilda beckoned him to her; there 
 was a beseeching expression in her looks, 
 as she pointed towards Schramm, who, in 
 confusion, had turned aside.
 
 280 MAURICE, 
 
 '* Krantz/^ she said, " 1 had a son.*' 
 
 "I know it. Dame, and luckless the hour 
 for you in which you gave him birth ; he 
 hath helped to bring misery to many of us/' 
 
 "But, Krantz, he was my son." 
 
 " Well, Dame, I will say no more against 
 him; I hope, in his repentance, he will find 
 mercy ; but why speak you thus now, Dame, 
 and before a stranger ? I fear me your head 
 wanders/' 
 
 Schramm now turned round, but no re- 
 collection appeared to cross the miller's 
 memory. 
 
 *' Ah ! Krantz,*' he exclaimed, *'you knovv 
 me not; you do not recognize in the hum- 
 bled being before you, the wretch whom 
 your words have condemned." 
 
 "Schramm !" cried the miller, *' is it pos- 
 sible ? so changed, not one trace of what 
 you were ?" 
 
 "True, too true," cried the unhappy man, 
 as he pressed his hand on his forehead ;
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 281 
 
 " changed, blighted I am, but penitent and 
 punished, and humbly I bow under afflic- 
 tions SO well deserved.'^ 
 
 Krantz was now informed of the events of 
 the morning, and that the son so long lost 
 to his father, was found. 
 
 Ludwig soon returned with such fare as 
 he could purchase. A short consultation 
 was held ; he again promised the utmost 
 caution, and quitted them. The miller ar- 
 ranged that Schramm should join him early 
 in the morning at the mill, and leaving him 
 for the present with his mother, wound his 
 way up the hill. 
 
 Clotilda and Theresa were soon in pos- 
 session of the disclosures which had taken 
 place in Hilda's cottage, and had reason to 
 rejoice in the assistance which they might 
 hope to derive from Schramm and his son, 
 both of whom had so much cause to detest 
 the villain who had so wantonly injured 
 them.
 
 282 MAURICE, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Whilst our indefatigable horsemen were 
 snatching- a short repose on the evening of 
 their departure from the camp, we will turn 
 to those who demand even more of our 
 interest, as rendered, from their sex and 
 habits, more helpless. Consternation pre- 
 vailed at the mill, for towards the evening 
 of the day, which had succeeded one of 
 storm and rain, Krantz entered in haste, 
 heated and troubled, and called his trusted 
 inmates to immediate consultation ; he had
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SA.XONY. 283 
 
 been to the village, and on his way home 
 had found Ludwig at Hilda's cottage, who 
 informed him that the Baron had just ar- 
 rived, and from orders issued, he had no 
 doubt that he meditated some mischievous 
 adventure. Krantz readily conceived that 
 some mischance had revealed to Reiterstein 
 the probable place of Clotilda's concealment, 
 and that he would resort to immediate force 
 to regain possession of her ; nor would he 
 scruple to devote to destruction the mill 
 and its inhabitants, in order to compass his 
 object ; not a moment was to be lost, if 
 escape was to be thought of; Thumelda 
 would not hear of separation from Clotilda, 
 for she said, '^ either in the event of escape 
 or captivity, she will require my assist- 
 ance." 
 
 Krantz prepared two stout horses ; and 
 the party having equipped themselves in gar- 
 ments suited to their mode of travelling, and 
 having taken an affectionate and mournful
 
 284 MAURICE, 
 
 farewell of Theresa, in less than an hour 
 bade adieu to an abode they had vainly 
 hoped was secure from discovery; Krantz 
 placed the light form of Clotilda before him, 
 while Schramm protected Thuraelda in the 
 same manner. It was determined to procure 
 additional horses at the first farm or vil- 
 lage they might reach; every inch of the 
 country, with all its paths, was vvell known 
 to the miller, and he trusted that the few 
 hours they had gained in advance, would 
 lodge them in safety. 
 
 The heath was soon traversed, and the 
 deep woods seen from the hill stretching 
 beyond, held out hopes that their friendly 
 shades would shield them from observation ; 
 but ere they could reach them, they would 
 be compelled to cross a rapid stream which 
 traversed the valley ; when arrived at its 
 borders, Krantz saw with despair, that the 
 autumnal rains had so increased its volume 
 of water, that the usual ford upon which
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 285 
 
 he had calculated, was no longer feasi- 
 ble ; and that they would be forced to 
 make a considerable detour, before they 
 could find a practicable place, by which to 
 cross over into the opposite forest; he did 
 not hesitate, but spurred on, trusting that 
 the obscurity of the night, although it ren- 
 dered their passage more doubtful and 
 dangerous, would cover their movements ; 
 a more fordable part now presented itself, 
 but here as well the stream was rapid, and 
 the horses at the first plunge were immersed 
 to their girths ; in ordinary seasons, it was 
 of no great breadth or depth, but it was now 
 extended much beyond its usual limits, and 
 was swollen into a river. 
 
 Clotilda gave no expression to her fears, 
 but was too much terrified by the noise of 
 the rushing waters, and the evident diffi- 
 culty which Krantz found in keeping his 
 horse's head across the stream, to give any 
 reply to his encouraging words : at last
 
 286 MAURICE, 
 
 happily they gained the opposite shore, and 
 here it was necessary to pause for a few 
 seconds, as well to await the arrival of their 
 companions, as to give breathing- time to 
 their good steed, who sturdy as he was, 
 broad of chest, and strong- of limb, stood 
 panting from the exertion he had been com- 
 pelled to make, in order to stem the strong 
 running stream, while the water dripped 
 from his sides. Krantz looked anxiously 
 over his shoulder for his companions, but 
 Schramm was not as he expected in his 
 wake ; with terror he cast his eyes around ; 
 the current had been too powerful for the 
 willing animal, who in spite of his own efforts 
 and those of his rider to cross the tide, was 
 fast floating down, being borne onward by 
 the strength of the gurgling waters ; Krantz 
 knew that at some distance below the ford 
 they had attempted, there was a fall of 
 many feet, and that if they continued in 
 their present course, their destruction was
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 287 
 
 inevitable. Assisting Clotilda to dismount, 
 he rode rapidly along the edge of the ex- 
 tended stream, to a point a little beyond 
 where his companions were vainly strug- 
 gling, and once more plunging into the 
 swollen river met them, and seizing the 
 bridle of Schramm's horse, landed them in 
 safety. The poor animal, nearly spent, 
 could scarcely keep on his legs. Schramm 
 dismounted, and led him to the spot, where 
 Clotilda, in an agony of suspense, was await- 
 ing them. As soon as the over-wrought 
 steeds could recover breath, and the fugi- 
 tives had wrung some of the water from their 
 garments, they remounted, and were soon 
 under cover of the thick woods ; Krantz 
 producing his flask, which was hanging 
 across his shoulder, made them partake of 
 a cup of wine. — Their progress was slow, 
 for they travelled in total darkness : and the 
 morning broke ere they gained a broader 
 path, which led to the outskirts of the
 
 288 MAURICE, 
 
 forest. They were now winding round the 
 base of a low hill, the woods still on one 
 side of them ; the horses were put to a 
 brisker pace, and in half an hour an open 
 and more level country was before them 
 with a farm in the distance. 
 
 The travellers hailed with delight the 
 prospect of some rest and refreshment, 
 as Clotilda and her faithful companion 
 were well nigh overcome by fatigue, for 
 which their long confinement, and want 
 of exercise had ill prepared them. Cantering 
 through some fields of bright green pastur- 
 age, they reached their destination. Krantz 
 dismounted, and was heartily welcomed by 
 the inmates of the farm, who speedily pre- 
 pared a substantial breakfast, after par- 
 taking of which Clotilda and Thumelda 
 sought some repose ; they were likewise 
 willing to supply them with additional 
 cattle. — Krantz with his usual activity, 
 made every preparation, and took every
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 289 
 
 precaution, which his readiness sugg-ested, 
 and with as little delay as possible pre- 
 pared for a continuance of their journey. 
 He had already brought the steeds round, 
 and was assisting Clotilda to mount, when 
 his quick ears caught the tramp of horses ; 
 and before flight was possible, they 
 were surrounded by, and in the power of 
 their pursuers : Schramm fortunately had 
 not come round from the stable ; vainly 
 Krantz fought, and struggled, he was 
 quickly overpowered by numbers, and pin- 
 ioned, while the two females were lifted 
 almost senseless on the horses which had 
 been destined for their escape. A trooper 
 rode on either side of them ; the miller was 
 guarded in the same manner; the poor 
 people of the house terrified by this sudden 
 invasion, fled in difi'erent directions to con- 
 ceal themselves ; one of the men perceiving 
 Schramm turning the corner from the 
 stables, spurred up to him; it was Ludwig. 
 
 VOL.1. o
 
 290 MAURICE, 
 
 '' Back ! back !'^ he said quickly ! '^ you can 
 now do nothing-, save yourself for those 
 whom you would save ; the beast will 
 carry the prey to his lair." Then turning his 
 horse, he was quickly by the side of Krantz; 
 one glance assured the miller of his fidelity. 
 During" this fray, which did not occupy the 
 space of three minutes, so rapid had been 
 the movements of the assaulters, so instan- 
 taneous the capture of the assailed, that 
 not a word had been spoken. The Baron 
 now gave the command to proceed ; and 
 dismissing one of Clotilda's guards, took 
 his place by her side ; malice and triumph 
 were struggling for mastery in his dark 
 features, as he gazed on the almost inani- 
 mate but beautiful form before him : most 
 unhappily for Clotilda, a new passion was 
 stirring in his bosom ; to call it love, would 
 be to desecrate the name of love, for neither 
 intellect, beauty, nor virtue, had the power 
 to inspire one pure feeling in the animal na- 
 ture of that dark man ; — the indulgence of
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 291 
 
 lawless passions, like a tempest, vvbich lays 
 the fairest flower of hill and valley low, and 
 leaves only the withered stem, and stunted 
 sapling as land marks, to show the wreck of 
 nature's works, had left their impress upon 
 features, which heaven had originally 
 stamped with more than ordinary comeli- 
 ness ; — his soul was a continued storm, 
 or cloud, vacillating between contending 
 vices, but never admitting one ray of be- 
 nevolence or softer feeling, to illuminate 
 his wayward and unbending nature; his 
 manner was tarnished by the corruption 
 of his mind ; imperious and commanding, 
 he was incapable of practising forbearance, 
 or receiving that exterior polish, which is 
 the gem of society, and adds lustre to 
 talent, birth, and beauty : he had passed 
 through life without one tender tie, nor could 
 memory, had he tested its powers, have re- 
 called a single act, which could redeem his 
 soul from its chaos of crime ; stern, selfish 
 
 o 2
 
 292 MAURICE, 
 
 and harsh, he might inspire fear, or elicit 
 hatred, but there coald be no affinity in a 
 tender nature to link itself wUh his. 
 
 He rode on by Clotilda's side for some 
 time ere he spoke, his large dark eyes 
 wandering- over her features from time to 
 time. Hers were half closed and bent 
 down, as if to shut out the form of a being 
 who had well deserved the appellation of 
 her evil g-enius ; her thoughts were busy, 
 and she felt how imperious was the neces- 
 sity for the exertion of all her fortitude 
 and energy. No complaint passed her lips; 
 not a tear dimmed her eye, but the fervent 
 and inward prayer was devoutly offered 
 for strength of mind, to act with judgment 
 and courage when the hour of trial should 
 come. 
 
 They pursued a different route from that 
 which they had trodden the night before, and 
 as evening fell they arrived at the hut, 
 where some months before Clotilda had.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 293 
 
 with her guide, sought shelter in her way 
 to the mill ; there was no doubt that Rei- 
 terstein had tracked her from this point, and 
 if there had been any, his observation would 
 have chased it. 
 
 ''These are poor lodgings, lady," he said, 
 " but you will not object to harbour for a 
 few hours^ where, by your free choice, you 
 spent some days." She made neither reply 
 nor remonstrance, but quietly sutFered her- 
 self to be lifted from her horse. 
 
 It was a relief to find herself once more 
 with Thumelda. The hovel consisted of 
 two small rooms ; they had evidently been 
 prepared (although hastily) for their recep- 
 tion. Thumeida's fears were greater for her 
 father than herself, for she felt assured, that 
 if his fate hung on the Baron's mercy, it would 
 be one, from the contemplation of which 
 she shrunk with horror ; she imagined her 
 poor mother^s agony, when Schramm should 
 reach their dwelling, and carry the intelli- 
 gence of their capture.
 
 294 MAURICE, 
 
 Clotilda felt, indeed, that sad as her own 
 position was, this poor girl's was infinitely 
 worse, and she sought by every means in her 
 power, to comfort and console her. Ludwig-, 
 she believed, would save Krantz, even at 
 the risk of his own life, and indeed the 
 reflection that they had a friend in the 
 Castle of their enemy, was a consolation to 
 both. Clotilda urged Thumelda to take 
 food and repose, and g-ave the example. 
 
 ^* We shall have occasion,^* she said, *^ for 
 all our physical as well as mental force, and 
 to neglect any means for the preservation of 
 either for the sake of others, whose happi- 
 ness depends on us, will be culpable.'^ 
 
 The gray morning found these compa- 
 nions in peril equipped for their unhappy 
 journey, when a low tap at the door, pre- 
 pared even as they were for a summons, 
 startled them, for however we may have 
 exerted our reason to bring our minds to the 
 endurance of a certain and inevitable evil.
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 295 
 
 its immediate presence ever causes a revul- 
 sion. They paused to recover composure, 
 and then answered the demand for admis- 
 sion. Ludwig stood with a cheerful coun- 
 tenance, bearing a basket with some pro- 
 vision for breakfast. Advancing- into the 
 room, he closed the door, arranged the con- 
 tents of his basket on the table, and said 
 softly, " eat, and take courage.^^ 
 
 Clotilda, to whom it must be remembered 
 that personally he was a stranger, looked at 
 him doubtingly, but he quickly relieved her 
 by adding : 
 
 ^* I am Ludwig, the son of Schramm ; 
 whatever you may see, whatever you may 
 hear, follow my counsel. Do not judge 
 either by my manner, or speech, but trust 
 confidently in me ;'' he then left tnem, and 
 these few words restored the appetite his 
 presence in the first instance had chased 
 away. In half an hour he returned, bade 
 them prepare quickly, and follow him. 
 
 Thumelda, ere they mounted, looked anxi-
 
 296 MAURICE, 
 
 ously around for her father. His counte- 
 nance was composed, but he appeared to 
 writhe with torture, from the tightness of 
 the cords which confined his arms. 
 
 The tears glistened in Thumelda's eyes 
 as she imagined all the agony he was en- 
 during. She was still more grieved, as 
 turning to Ludwig, she perceived a repressed 
 smile playing round the corners of his 
 mouth. 
 
 *'This man," thought she, ^' bids us trust 
 in him, while he evidently enjoys the suf- 
 fering inflicted by his base commander." 
 
 They proceeded in the order of the day 
 preceding, winding through the forest; a 
 deep ravine was now before them, and the 
 path so straightened, that they were com- 
 pelled to traverse it in single file. The 
 Baron ordered t\yo troopers to lead ; he 
 followed, then Clotilda and Thumelda with 
 three troopers, Krantz and Ludwig brought 
 up the rear. The ground was slippery from 
 moss and damp, and their pace in conse-
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXOiNY. 297 
 
 quence slow. The horse which Krantz 
 rode, suddenly slipped and fell with its 
 rider ; his rein was passed through the arm 
 of a trooper immediately in advance of him, 
 who was also nearly unhorsed by the sudden 
 jerk ; the fall appeared to have burst asun- 
 der the cords, by which the miller was 
 bound, for in a moment he was up and 
 free, and with one bound, darted into the 
 thickest part of the wood. 
 
 Thumelda turned at the moment of her 
 father's escape ; the same satisfied smile 
 was on Lud wig's face, and she now saw the 
 cause of that expression which had so much 
 offended her, as they left the hut ifi the 
 morning, and felt that he might indeed be 
 trusted. 
 
 He pretended to shout and rave at the 
 prisoner's escape. As soon as the word 
 was passed to the Baron, the party halted, 
 and Ludwig dismounted and rushed into 
 the wood. In the space of half an hour 
 
 o 5
 
 298 MAURICE, 
 
 he returned, soiled and heated, swearing 
 at his ill luck. '' The fellow must have 
 had all the imps of the forest to help him," 
 said he, ''- but to search for him among 
 such thickets and pit falls, I fear will be 
 labour lost ;^' and certainly from the state of 
 his face, hands, and clothes, he made it ap- 
 pear to be so : he said however that he was 
 willing to pursue the fugitive, and urged 
 the Baron to permit him to do so. 
 
 ^'Who pinioned the fellow?" said the 
 Baron in a rage. 
 
 Schwartz replied that he did, with knots 
 and cords sufficient to have harnassed a 
 team of oxen. 
 
 *' Bungling rascal/^ urged the Baron, 
 '' thou shalt pay for this ;" at the same 
 time dealing the man a heavy buffet with 
 the flat side of his sword. 
 
 His rage would have lashed him on to mur- 
 derous violence, had not Ludwig interposed. 
 
 "He well deserves what he has got, Baron ;
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 299 
 
 but the fact is/' he added laughing-, "he 
 weakened the cord, by straining it so tight 
 that the fall burst it asunder. I warrant 
 the prisoner is too much disabled, too stiff, 
 and too deeply cut by my comrade's fast 
 binding, to go far, therefore if it be your 
 pleasure, I will endeavour to track him.^' 
 
 ^* Do so, Ludwig, and take one of the men 
 with you.'^ 
 
 " Pardon me. Baron, but it would be a 
 pity to weaken the convoy ; 1 flatter myself, 
 that a wounded unarmed rustic is no match 
 for Ludwig/' 
 
 " Well be it so, but remember, if the fellow 
 makes any resistance, dispatch him on the 
 spot: it will save us the trouble of dangling 
 him from the Castle walls, when we shall 
 reach our destination.'* 
 
 Ludwig turned his horse quickly, and 
 retrod the path by which they had de- 
 scended the ravine, looked cautiously 
 around, and making his way for some
 
 300 MAURICE^ 
 
 distance through the brushwood which bor- 
 dered the narrow path, gave a loud whistle, 
 and Krantz stood unarmed before him, 
 
 *' Thou hast saved my life, brave youth, 
 ^nd Krantz is not ungrateful. I fear you 
 may suffer, if the Baron suspects your 
 connivance/^ 
 
 *' Never fear," said Ludwig, '' the fellow 
 who bound you may suspect, and try to clear 
 himself at my expense, but I will manage 
 that; take these pistols and dagger; they are 
 your own, which on your capture I concealed 
 about my person, use them fearlessly in your 
 own defence, if any of our men discover 
 and attack you ; for once at the Castle, your 
 death is certain. Hark !^' he added, "that 
 fellow surely is on our track. A\vay, 
 hide yourself, doubtless he has dismounted ; 
 however, he shall find his way back on 
 foot. Make for the road which crosses the 
 forest between this and the hut, if you find 
 his horse, mountit, and away." He moved for-
 
 THE ELECTOR OP SAXONV. 301 
 
 ward quickly, and perceiving- Schwartz's tall 
 figure, and glittering arms, as he forced his 
 way through the underwood, he took another 
 direction and regained the path, where truly 
 enough, as he supposed, the trooper had 
 fastened his horse, and somewhat below the 
 spot where Ludwig had left his own ; — he 
 broke the branch to which the rein was at- 
 tached, leaving it hanging- by a few fibres to 
 the tree, and whipping the animal, caused 
 him to rear and plunge, tearing up the 
 e^round, and leaving- the marks of his hoofs 
 deeply imprinted, as if he had freed himself 
 from his tether by his own exertions ; lead- 
 ing him to a distance considerably above 
 the place where he had left his own horse, 
 he drove him into the forest. Skirting the 
 path, he regained his charger, and slowly 
 proceeded on his way; when within sight of*^ 
 his party, he put his steed into a brisk trot, 
 and overtook them about a mile from the 
 Castle.
 
 302 
 
 MAURICE, 
 
 " Well, what nevvs?^* said the Baron. 
 
 ** I am sorry to say/' replied Ludwig, " I 
 have not succeeded in making- a capture/' 
 
 "And where is that stupid fellow 
 Schwartz, whom on second thoughts I sent 
 after you?" 
 
 *' I have not seen him, sir ; I went alone/* 
 
 " I know it, sirrah; as soon as that dolt 
 returns, he shall be taught in his person, 
 how to secure a prisoner.'* 
 
 The party now crossed the stone bridge, 
 and in the course of a few minutes, the 
 Castle gates closed on the unhappy Clo- 
 tilda and her companion. 
 
 Krantz continued to elude his pursuer — 
 deceiving him by an occasional shout or 
 whistle, till he had bewildered him com- 
 pletely in alabyrinth of wood, and then made 
 his way rapidly towards a cartroad ; here 
 when he had proceeded for above a mile, 
 he found the trooper's charger, who was 
 quietly feeding on the herbage by the road 
 side : he sprang upon the animal's back,
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 303 
 
 and before the morning-, had regained the 
 farm. 
 
 Fortunately Schramm had decided to re- 
 main there, hoping that through Ludwig, 
 the miller might obtain his release, and join 
 him : he urged Krantz to repose, and taking 
 the horse led him round to the stable. 
 
 In the afternoon they were again mount- 
 ed, but pursuing a different course from 
 their first intention on leaving the mill. 
 
 After what had taken place, there could 
 be no question as to the necessity of seek- 
 ing immediate assistance. This perhaps 
 was a forlorn hope, but it was the only 
 one which suggested itself or presented a 
 chance of rescuing Clotilda and Thumelda, 
 from the hands into which they had fallen. — 
 Krantz did not doubt, that Ludwig would 
 do his utmost, but he was young, inex- 
 perienced, and equally with the others in 
 the power of Reiterstein. The miller was 
 not yet aware that Ludwig had stu\lied his
 
 304 MAURICE, 
 
 master's character, that his gaiety had been 
 subdued by the events which had lately 
 occurred ; and that he burned to avenge the 
 sufferings of his parents upon the villain 
 who had caused them, by entrapping hira in 
 his own toils of wickedness. 
 
 The object now of the two anxious tra- 
 vellers, was to make their way as rapidly 
 as they could to Magdeburg ; they pressed 
 on in the direction which would put them 
 in the way of reaching the camp ; they had 
 kept the road bearing higher up in the 
 forest, where they were less encumbered by 
 underwood ; but they did not gain the one 
 which they sought, and which ran at right 
 angles to that which they had for some time 
 been .pursuing, till night had closed around 
 them ; however they decided to push on by 
 the light of the stars, for an uncultivated 
 tract of some miles lay before them, and 
 until they had passed this wild waste, there 
 would not be a prospect of shelter for the
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 305 
 
 remaining portion of the night. The road 
 was level, and their horses, although fatigued, 
 were still fresh enough to do the distance 
 without being sorely distressed. The riders 
 were too much excited by the danger which 
 threatened those dear to them, to feel either 
 hunger or fatigue ; they had hastily refresh- 
 ed themselves and their animals, at a small 
 brook which ran bubbling down by the way 
 side, and lost itself in the forest. The 
 draught seemed to invigorate both men and 
 beasts. 
 
 Krantz, after a lengthened silence, seemed 
 to have shaken oflf in some measure the dis- 
 mal forebodings which had hitherto been 
 the indulged and hopeless companions of 
 his way. 
 
 " Schramm,^' he exclaimed, ** a ray of 
 light breaks on me.^^ 
 
 " Thank heaven," answered the other, " 1 
 trust it may increase into a glorious sun- 
 beam ; but by what course of reasoning, my
 
 306 MAURICE, 
 
 good friend, have you brought yourself to 
 hope?'' 
 
 *' By a very simple one, which might have 
 presented itself to me sooner, if I had not 
 been bewildered from my usual composure 
 by the disastrous events of the last three 
 days, but you shall judge whether there is 
 any rational basis for my speculations." 
 
 ** Father A.ugustine must be informed ere 
 this of Reiterstein's movements; he departed 
 many days since in order to give his assist- 
 ance, and use his influence in negociating a 
 peace between Duke Maurice and the Mag- 
 deburghers ; even if Reiterstein had not 
 declared his intention, that he was going in 
 search of his unfortunate cousin, the monk 
 will not, if I judge him rightly, sleep upon 
 the necessity of sending immediate succour 
 to secure her safety ; the hope I spoke 
 of therefore is, that he may have forestal- 
 led us." 
 
 '' It is possible/' said Schramm, with a 
 sigh, " and I trust probable."
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 307 
 
 " I fear you think," replied the miller, 
 *'that it hangs upon too many chances to 
 say that it is a foundation upon which we 
 may build, and feel certain that our super- 
 structure will stand." 
 
 " Heaven grant it may, for alas ! my poor 
 child r 
 
 " Fear not for her, my friend ; she will 
 not be molested till the great prize has been 
 drawn, and ere that, at least we may hope 
 for her deliverance." 
 
 *' You reason truly, Schramm, but the 
 beatings of a father's heart are not easily 
 stilled, whilst a shadow of danger threatens 
 his offspring.*' 
 
 They had now made some progress, and 
 had nearly gained the midway over the long 
 stretch of upland, at the termination of 
 which they had determined to remain for 
 the rest of the night, when a glimmering 
 light, at some distance, caught their eager 
 attention.
 
 308 MAURICE, 
 
 *' How is this?" said Krantz, "we must 
 be cautious, for 1 know of no dwelling here- 
 abouts, but a shepherd's hut, where, when 
 on the moor, he takes his rest at sun-down ; 
 and yet surely from that cabin the light 
 must proceed ; let us keep our horses on 
 the turf, and go on with caution ; although 
 not likely, Reiterstein may have sent for a 
 reinforcement." Upon this plan they rode 
 forward, but either owing to the stillness of 
 the night, the echo of their horses' tramp 
 before they left the road had been conveyed 
 to some attentive watchers, or their distance 
 was less than Krantz had supposed from 
 the hut, for while debating in whispers how 
 to shape their course, and avoid the cogni- 
 zance of its temporary inmates, they were 
 challenged, and a sharp whistle brought 
 three horsemen quickly to the support of 
 the challenger. To dare a fight would have 
 been madness, when most likely there were 
 numbers to contend with, and overcome
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 309 
 
 them ; and their beasts were too tired to 
 compete with horses fresh and well fed^ in 
 the attempt at escape. 
 
 ''What would you with us V cried Krantz 
 in despair ; " we are peaceable travellers, 
 and not worth the pains of searching ; let 
 us on, I beseech you, our business is urgent, 
 it is for life or death." 
 
 " You must come with us, nevertheless/' 
 said one of the party, " and if it be, as you 
 say, you will not be detained." 
 
 Krantz, upon this assurance, held his 
 peace, and quietly followed his captors to 
 the hut, once more the sport of fortune. 
 
 One of the men dismounted, and entering- 
 the cabin, was absent for a few seconds ; 
 *'our commander," he said on returning, 
 "must examine you himselt, so dismount 
 with your companion." 
 
 The miller obeyed, and with Schramm was 
 ushered into the miserable hovel, which 
 presented a curious scene. The earthen floor
 
 310 MAURICE, 
 
 was thickly piled with dry fern, on which 
 was sleeping a dozen troopers, leaving- 
 Krantz scarcely space to approach him, 
 whom he concluded to be the commander. 
 This person had thrown aside his heavy 
 armour, and was seated on a low stool, 
 whilst on another was placed a flask and 
 drinking cups, with some cold viands, and 
 coarse bread. 
 
 That they had not fallen amongst ban- 
 ditti, the first glance assured him, for the 
 countenance of the man who was to decide 
 upon the truth of his statement, was noble 
 and ingenuous ; and the elegance of his 
 person denoted him a knight in the field, 
 and a noble at the court. There was a 
 uniformity in the equipment of the sleeping 
 men that bespoke them to be regular sol- 
 diers, habituated to the word of command. 
 
 Schramm followed, but he no sooner cast 
 his eyes on the young knight before him, 
 than a sudden exclamation of * Sir Otho,'
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 311 
 
 escaped him, and he threw himself in the 
 deepest agitation on his knees before him. 
 
 At this moment Krantz felt his shoulder 
 pressed by the hand of some one, as if 
 anxious to pass, and turning* he uttered 
 loudly and with surprise, " Konrad ! heaven 
 be praised ;" he added more lowly, but fer- 
 vently — "They may be saved.^' 
 
 Konrad now made a sign to his com- 
 mander, who immediately arose, and the 
 four left the solitary cabin to the sleeping 
 men. Moving to some little distance, 
 Krantz briefly told his tale, and the perilous 
 situation of those for whose rescue they 
 were now on their way to seek assistance. 
 
 It was now Konrad's turn to explain the 
 cause of his presence in that lonely spot. 
 In the mean time, Schramm had remained 
 close to the stranger, who had been dread- 
 fully agitated during Krantz's recital; ad- 
 vancing, he took the miller's hand, and said : 
 '' It is to you, my brave friend, that I am so
 
 312 MAURICE, 
 
 much indebted for such service, there can be 
 no recompense, but the deepest gratitude 
 which can never cease to animate me, while 
 I have consciousness to feel, and breath to 
 g-ive expression to it/' 
 
 Krantz now explained to Konrad Thu- 
 melda's concealment, and honestly told him 
 that he had feared in the first instance to 
 trust him with the secret of her confinement 
 at the mill, so deeply had his conduct im- 
 pressed him with the idea of his want of pru- 
 dence, but, added the miller, ** may I be so 
 bold as to ask, Sir Otho, how your release 
 from imprisonment has been obtained V 
 
 ** Thus, my good Krantz, when father Au- 
 gustine, and in truth, I may call him my 
 father, stated through Duke Maurice, to that 
 noble fellow Mansfeldt, my unhappy position' 
 he granted me a temporary release on my 
 parole, until I could obtain, bring with me, or 
 place in security my beloved Clotilda ; with 
 scarcely necessary rest, we have spurred on
 
 THE ELECTOR OP SAXONY. 313 
 
 hither, the good father has provided us with 
 minute plans of every outlet to the Castle, 
 which we hope to reach to-morrow ; your pre- 
 sence will possibly cause some alteration in 
 our first determination. The Elector would 
 rather that we should spare violence — but, my 
 friends, you must need repose, our men shall 
 be aroused ; it is now the hour in which we 
 had proposed to quit our temporary abode, 
 which was chosen by Konrad as the most 
 secure from observation. You must occupy 
 for some hours their rough pallets. The 
 men who have already had their rest, will 
 attend to your horses. Accept such coarse 
 fare as we can offer ; and in the morning, 
 assisted by your direction, we will pursue 
 our way." 
 
 With minds more at ease, Krantz and his 
 companions thankfully laid themselves 
 down upon the fern, which the troopers, 
 aroused from their slumbers, had just 
 quitted ; and as they did so, almost doubted, 
 vol.. I. P
 
 314 MAURICE, 
 
 SO intense ^\as their weariness, if they 
 could have reached the bourne they had 
 proposed ; for Krantz had scarcely closed 
 his eyes since he had left his home, and 
 robust as he was, nature was exhausted. 
 On quitting- his hard bed in the morning, 
 he was well pleased to view the troop before 
 him. They were a body of well-ordered 
 hardy men, completely armed, appointed 
 and well-mounted. 
 
 Krantz and Schramm were soon again in 
 the saddle, and rode forward with Otho 
 and Konrad, retracing- a part of their last 
 night's road. When within a few miles of 
 Reiterstein, it was agreed that Schramm 
 should proceed alone on foot to the mill, 
 convey to Theresa the news of her hus- 
 band's safety, and endeavour to procure an 
 interview with Ludwig. They were about 
 to change their route from the direct road to 
 Reiterstein, and advance to the Castle on 
 the western side, when a turn in the road
 
 THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 315 
 
 presented Schwartz to their view ; he was 
 making- his way slowly onward, when the 
 party approached ; he endeavoured to conceal 
 himself, but he was quickly drawn from his 
 hiding- place. It appeared from his own 
 account, that he had wandered for some 
 hours in the forest. When at length he 
 emancipated himself, he found that his horse 
 had, as he supposed, got loose ; he wandered 
 in search of the animal the whole day, liv- 
 ing upon such wild fruit as he could collect, 
 and some black bread, bestowed upon 
 him by a party of wood - cutters, whom 
 he had encountered in the forest ; he was 
 soon mounted upon Schramm's horse, and 
 the party proceeded. 
 
 p 2
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Maurice of Saxony was born at Freiberg, the 
 twenty -first of March, 1527. His earliest years 
 were spent at the Courts of his Uncle George, of 
 the splendour loving Albert, Elector of Mentz, and 
 of the Elector, John Frederick. In the year 1541, 
 he married the daughter of Philip of Hesse, and 
 succeeded his father, Henry the Pious, who died 
 during the summer j he quarrelled with the Elector 
 of Saxony regarding the amount of taxes to be 
 imposed upon a Dependency of Meissen, of which 
 they were joint proprietors. He professed his warm 
 attachment to the doctrines of Luther, but the fa- 
 vour shown him by the Emperor for services in the 
 French and Hungarian campaigns, together with 
 the reception into his service of the former coun- 
 sellors of his deceased uncle, the zealous Catholic 
 George, warned the Elector of the prudence of
 
 318 NOTES. 
 
 watching the movements of his kinsman. — Rose's 
 Encyclopadia Metropolitana, vol. xvi. 4to, 3rd edi- 
 tion, History and Biography, 1839. 
 
 Maurice left only one daughter, vi^ho was after- 
 ward married to William Prince of Orange, by 
 whom she had a son who bore his grandfather's 
 name, and inherited the great talents for which he 
 was conspicuous. — Robertsoris Charles the Fifth, 
 vol. iv. book xi. p. 136. 
 
 Page 93. 
 
 Chart (Heath - Waste) derived from the Saxon 
 Chert or Hornblend — a stone almost confined to 
 lines of green sand formations. 
 
 Page 148. 
 Sur ces entrefaites, le vingti^me de Decembre, 
 ceux de Magdebourg qui n'^toient point de garde, 
 sortirent sans bruit, dans le dessein de surprendre le 
 quartier de la cavalerie ennemie, log^e k Ottersleben. 
 lis ne tronv^rent aucune resistance, parceque les 
 sentinelles ^toient plong^s dans un sommeil si pro- 
 fond qu'ils ne s'apper^urent de rien ; de sorte que 
 les troupes de Magdebourg s'emparerent ais^ment 
 de diff^rens quartiers, et egorgerent tous ceux qui 
 tomb^rent sous leurs mains, lis firent aussi un grand 
 nombre de prisonniers, entre lesquels il y eut deux 
 cents cinquante officiers de la premiere condition, qui 
 furent men^s comme en triomphe dans Magdebourg.
 
 NOTES. 319 
 
 Cette victoire enfla tellement le courage des ast 
 sieges, que dfes le lendemain ils se mirent en cam- 
 pagne et firent des courses pour braver I'ennemi. 
 Le Due de Meckel bourg, indigne de cette insulte, 
 fit venir la cavalerie qui etoit a Neustadt et a Olfen- 
 stal, et se pr^para a venger I'affront que ses allies 
 venoient de recevoir. Comme il cherchoit rennemi, 
 il fut pris en queue par la troupe qui s'etoit signalee 
 k Ottersleben, et attaqu6 de front par un autre corps 
 qui marchoit a sa rencontre. Son infanterie fu- 
 taille en pieces, et la cavalerie se debanda aprfes 
 avoir fait une longue et vigoureuse resistance. II 
 se vit alors enveloppe de toutes parts et force lui- 
 m^me de se rendre prisonnier. — Histoire Gen^rale 
 D'AUemagne, par le P. Barre tome viii. partie 
 2, p. 823.) 
 
 Dfes le 26feine Janvier, I'Electeur Maurice de 
 Saxe etoit retourne au camp devant cette place 
 (Magdebourg) . Quatre jours apres son arrivee, il 
 courut risque d'etre fait prisonnier par les assieges. 
 — Ahrege de VHistoire Universelle de J. Auguste de 
 Thou, tome i. livre iv. p. 260, 9^me edition. 
 
 19th December, 1550. — All the horse and 
 foot within Magdeburg, but what were upon the 
 guard, sally out of the town after midnight, that 
 they might fall upon a party of the enemies' horse 
 that lay in a village not far off. It was indeed a
 
 320 NOTES. 
 
 dangerous attempt, because they were to march 
 betwixt the enemies' camps j however, it succeeded : 
 for before the enemy could arm, they possessed 
 themselves of the village, and set fire to it in several 
 places, all of them having white shirts over their 
 armour. Of the enemy, whoever made any resis- 
 tance were killed, most of them being persons of 
 quality : many fought from the houses, but these 
 being set on fire were burnt. Many gentlemen of 
 quality were taken, and presently carried to the 
 town, with about two hundred and sixty horses. 
 Next morning, when by break of day they were 
 upon their retreat homeward, they met a party of 
 horse, commanded by George Duke of Meckle- 
 burg, who presently charged them, but being beset 
 by the horse on the front and the foot on the rear, 
 he himself, who first began the war was made pri- 
 soner, and carried into the town. — Sleidan's History 
 of the Reformation of the Church, translated by Ed- 
 ward Bohun, book xxii. p. 505. 
 
 Page 155. 
 
 lis furent declares g^n^raux de Tarmee et on 
 donna le commandement de la cavalerie au Due 
 de Meckelbourg. — P. Barre, p. 812, tome viii. 
 
 Page 158. 
 On commenca alors k conferer av^c Maurice : 
 le secretaire nomme Heydeck, alloit sans cesse de
 
 NOTES. 321 
 
 la ville au camp, et du camp ^ la ville. — De Thou, 
 tome ix. book viii. p, 82, 4to. edition, Londres. 
 Page 164. 
 Albert Count Mansfeldt was in the town, who 
 had not, indeed, been outlawed by the Emperor, but 
 was turned out of all, for his having continued to 
 the last true and faithful to John-Frederic, Duke of 
 Saxony. — Sleidan, book xxii. p. 504. 
 
 Page 190. 
 During these transactions the siege of Magde- 
 burg was carried on with various success. At the 
 time Charles proscribed the citizens of Magdeburg, 
 and put them under the ban of the empire, he had 
 exhorted and even enjoined all the neighbouring 
 states to take arms against them as enemies and 
 common rebels. — Robertson's Charles the Fifth, 
 vol. iv. p. 40. 
 
 Page 192. 
 Maurice vras of middling stature, but of slight 
 growth; his bearing was proud and daring — his 
 countenance was small, his forehead high — his 
 blue eyes sharp and clear, displaying equally deep 
 wisdom and courageous vigour — his light red beard 
 hung down to his very breast, he wore the hair of 
 his head cut short, according to the custom of the 
 times. In his dress and arms, he combined what 
 was splendidly ornamental with what was suitable 
 and useful. In chivalrous exercises, Maurice was
 
 322 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 dextrous and powerful.— From Moritz, Herzog und 
 Chunfiirst zu Sachsen, by T. A. Von Langenn ; 1st 
 part, p. 506 ; see also Arnoldi Vita Maurit : apud 
 Menken. 
 
 Page 193. 
 L'Electeur Maurice fut done declar^ par la di^te, 
 G^n^ral de I'arm^e ; on ordonna le payement de la 
 somme de dix mille ecus d'or pour les frais qui avoi- 
 ent deja ete faits, et on en accorda soixante mille 
 par mois pour le tems que cette expedition dureroit 
 encore. — Le Pere Barre, tome viii. p. 815; De 
 Thou, tome i. livre vi. p. 434. 
 
 Page 200. 
 L'Elbe s'enfla alors extraordinairement. Les 
 moulins qui etoient sur cette riviere furent em- 
 portes par la violence des eaux, et une partie des 
 remparts de la ville fut abattue. Pour r^parer ces 
 pertes, la R^gence de Magdebourg fit armer deux 
 navires, dont on se servit pour transporter des vivres 
 dans la ville, et pour s'emparer de ceux des ennemis. 
 Mais les Impferiaux ayant equippe quelques b^ti- 
 mens, et conduit leurs travaux jusqu' au bord de 
 I'Elbe, empecherent les assi^ges de naviger sur ce 
 fleuve. — P. Barre, tome viii, p. 835. 
 
 The enemy then built castles upon the Elbe, 
 above and below the town, and having posted 
 vessels on both sides well manned, hindered the 
 townsmen from venturing out by water. — Sleidan's
 
 NOTES. 323 
 
 History of the Reformation of the Church, translated 
 by Edward Bohun, book xxii. p. 513. 
 
 Page 224. 
 
 While the citizens of Magdeburg, animated by 
 the discourses of their pastors, and the soldiers, en- 
 couraged by the example of their officers, endured 
 all the hardships of a siege without murmuring, 
 and defended themselves with the same ardour 
 which they had at first discovered : the troops of 
 the besiegers acted with extreme remissness, re- 
 pining at every thing they suffered in a service they 
 disliked. They broke out more than once into open 
 mutiny and demanded the arrears of their pay. — 
 Robertson's Charles the Fifth, vol. iv. p. 42 ; also 
 Sleidan, book xxii. p. 514, 
 
 Page 250. 
 But afterwards George, Duke of Meckleburg, 
 the son of Albert, a youth who had served under 
 Duke Henry, wheedled them all into his service. 
 He began his march through the country of Hal- 
 berstadt, and came afterwards into the Pro\ince of 
 Magdeburg, plundering, burning, and spoiling 
 wherever he passed ; there he surprised the Town 
 of Wansleben which he burnt and razed ; and 
 having attacked the castle that stood hard by, but 
 in vain, and lost some of his men, he marched for- 
 ward, doing a great deal of mischief in all places. 
 — Sleidan, book xxii. p. 500.
 
 % 
 
 324 NOTES. 
 
 George of Mecklenburg, a younger brother of 
 the reigning Duke, an active and ambitious prince, 
 collected a considerable number of those soldiers of 
 fortune who had accompanied Henry of Brunswick 
 in all his wild enterprises j and though a zealous 
 Lutheran himself invaded the territories of the 
 Magdeburgers, hoping that by the merit of this 
 service he might procure some part of their domain 
 to be allotted to him as an establishment. — Robert- 
 sons Charles the Fifth, vol. iv. p. 40. 
 
 Ainsi ayant pris son chemin par le territoire 
 d'Halberstat, il entra dans le pays de Magdebourg, 
 ou apres avoir laiss^ faire k ses soldats tout ce 
 qu'ils ont coutume de commettre, lorsque la licence 
 n'a point de frein, il prit la ville de Wansleben, et y 
 mit le feu le 17 de Septembre &c. — De Thou His- 
 toire Universelle, tome premiere, livre vi. p. 429, 
 4to. ed. Londres. 
 
 Cependant le Prince George de 'Mecklenbourg, 
 k I'instigation de Charles Quint dtoit entr^ dans le 
 pays de Magdebourg, oil il mettoit tout k feu et k 
 sang. — Ahreg4 de VHistoire Universelle de J. Au- 
 guste de Thou, tome 1, livre iii. p. 225. 
 
 END OF VOL I. 
 
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