CHAPTER XII.
It was a dark and stormy night, that of the 19th of November, 1620, the eve of the twenty-third Sunday after Trinity; and clouds were rolling heavily over the sky, carried on by a keen and piercing wind which howled and whistled round the old battlements of Prague, and shook the lozenges in the long casements. Not a star was to be seen; the moon afforded not even that pale and uncertain light which she sometimes spreads over the general face of heaven, though her orb itself be hid beneath the vapoury canopy; and the only thing which chequered the darkness of the scene, was a light here and there in the windows of the straggling and irregular city--or a lantern, moving up from the lower to the higher town, caught through a break in the narrow and tortuous streets.
Such was the aspect on the side of Prague; but, upon the Weissenberg, a different scene was displayed. There, crowning the summit, was the camp of the Bohemian army; and, between the tents and waggons, glowed many a watch-fire, to warm such of the soldiery as had no shelter provided for them, while lanterns, hung up before particular pavilions, at some distance from each other, marked the quarters of the leaders of that inharmonious and disjointed force. Thus the whole crest of the hill was in a blaze of light; and a long line of fires ran down from the summit to the wide and beautiful promenade of the Star, marking the ground occupied by the wild Transylvanian horsemen. On the opposite side, towards Pilsen, a dark, black void extended; Christian of Anhalt having strictly prohibited any of the parties to pitch their tents beyond the brow on that side. This order, at least, had been obeyed, though not so with any other he had given; and, indeed, the whole afternoon had passed in wrangling insubordination, which required the utmost exercise of his authority to repress it, and restore order ere nightfall. About six in the evening, indeed, an event had happened which in some degree seconded his exertions. The troops had previously been left nearly without food, and totally without wine; but the strong remonstrances of the General to the court of Prague, and the liberal use of his own purse amongst the suttlers of the town, had at length procured a supply of meat and bread, and a moderate quantity of wine. The distribution was immediately made, and, while the soldiery were engaged in eating and drinking, measures were taken by their officers for restoring discipline; so that, by nine of the clock, a greater degree of order was to be seen in the camp, and this night promised to pass over quietly.
It was about that hour when Algernon Grey gazed forth from his tent for a moment over the impressive scene always afforded by the night encampment of an army. As he looked out, his eye ran over the several groups--rested upon the watch-fires--sped on, again, towards the Hungarian quarters, and then turned to the tents behind, and marked the different lines with a watchful and grave expression. From time to time he turned his head, and spoke a few words to some one within the tent, in broken and disjointed sentences--somewhat after the following form:--
"There must be twenty thousand, I think; that is to say without counting the Hungarians. How many do they count?"
"Twelve thousand," said a deep voice from within.
"Not so many, I should imagine," continued Algernon Grey. "Let me see--reckon ten men to a fire--there cannot be more than eight thousand, at the most. With such an army, one could do much, if there were but some bond between them, and we had something like discipline; and yet, and yet, I very much doubt the result."
"Where's your cousin? where's Lovet?" asked the voice again.
"He is gone into the town," answered Algernon Grey, turning back into the tent, and seating himself at a small rude table, by the side of the young Prince of Anhalt. "To tell the truth," he continued, "I am not sorry to be free from his presence: Lovet's spirit is too light to accord with mine in such moments as these. I must and do feel these things deeply, Christian. I cannot forget the scene that we witnessed here just twelve months ago, nor avoid comparing them with that which Prague presents even now; menaced by a superior army, with no proper preparations for defence, with your father's vast military skill fruitless to remedy faults of others, and the daring courage of yourself, and many like you, all cast away in the service of a prince unequal to the task he has assumed, and, I must add, little worthy of the crown which has been bestowed upon him."
"There has been a sad change, indeed," said the young Prince of Anhalt, in a gloomy tone; "and Frederic, I must own, has not shown himself fit for the crown he wears; but still he has not many serious faults; and there is one person, at least, worthy of every chivalrous exertion which noble-hearted men can make. I speak of your own fair Princess: faultless as beautiful, and brave as good. Would to God that she were our king! but yet we must all confess that Frederic has had a difficult game to play."
"True," answered Algernon Grey; "and he has played it badly. There never was, perhaps, a more united nation than these Bohemians when they raised the Elector Palatine to their throne. I mean, united heart and hand in that great act. Frederic owed his elevation not to a party in the State: the whole country was his party. You recollect the enthusiasm that awaited him wherever he appeared; in the castle of the noble, in the streets of the city, amongst the cottages of the village. There was not a man to be found unwilling and unprepared to draw the sword in his cause. But now, in one short year, how changed has everything become: the bond of union is broken; the united people is scattered into a thousand parties; and to what are we to attribute this? In a great degree to his own weakness, I fear, and his own mistakes. It is a curious thing to consider how the destruction of great parties is effected, and I fancy that it is a question on which Frederic never meditated, though it was that on which depended the stability of his power. The man who yields to the mere prejudices of the body which raises him to high station, will not maintain it long, it is true; but the man who resists the legitimate claims of that body is sure to fall very soon, for the disappointment of reasonable hopes is the seed of animosity, producing a bitter harvest. If it be dangerous to disappoint friends in their just demands, it is ten times more dangerous to encourage enemies, by endeavouring to conciliate them by any sacrifice of principle. Now Frederic has more or less incurred all these perils: in many respects he has yielded to the prejudices of the Bohemian people; and yet he has disappointed the reasonable hopes of many. He has given encouragement to enemies, by weak efforts to pacify and conciliate them; and, in short, he has forgotten the maxim or the motto of an old leader in this very land, 'A friend to my friends, an enemy to my enemies, a lover of peace, but no fearer of war.'"
"Ay, there has been his mistake, indeed," replied his companion. "His should have been the aggressive policy, as soon as a single sword was drawn against him; it was no time for temporizing when he had taken a crown from an emperor's head, and an emperor armed to recover it. Leading the whole Bohemian people, who would then have followed him like a pack of wolves, he should have marched straight to the gates of Vienna, and dictated the terms of peace in the halls of the Imperial Palace to him who has grown strong by impunity, and whose only rights are in tyranny. Then, when Ferdinand of Grätz was quelled, should have come the turn of Maximilian of Bavaria; and, ere the treaty of Ulm had time to get dry, the Catholic League might have been annihilated. The greatest mistake that men make, is when they do not discover whether it be the time for energy or repose. But yet, I see not how it is that he has disappointed the reasonable hopes and claims of the Bohemian people."
Algernon Grey smiled as the young Prince raised his eyes for a reply.
"We are friends, Christian," he said; "now, old and tried friends, or I would not venture to say to you what I am about to utter. The Bohemians had a right to expect that the highest posts in the State and army should be bestowed upon themselves instead of upon foreigners; but the reverse has been the case here. In the army what do you see?"
"Why, in Heaven's name!" exclaimed Christian of Anhalt, "I see that there is not one man amongst them so well qualified to lead a host as my father."
"Undoubtedly not," answered Algernon Grey; "but still the Bohemians have a right to complain that one of their own nobles was not selected for the task. Thurm and Schlick are both old and tried soldiers, with a high renown amongst their countrymen, and although as inferior to your father in every quality of a general as the meanest soldier is to them, yet, depend upon it, they themselves, and the whole Bohemian people have felt it a slight, not alone to the two counts, but to the whole of Bohemia."
"Very true," said a voice at the entrance of the tent; "quite just and right, my young friend," and an elderly man, of strong and powerful frame, with a grey peaked beard, and a broad-brimmed hat upon his head, entered and grasped Algernon Grey familiarly by the shoulder. "The placing me over these men has been one of the King's greatest faults. Heaven knows, I did not seek it; had he given me but a corps of ten thousand men raised in the Palatinate, I could have done him better service, than leading the whole rabble of Bohemia. But I have come to seek you upon other matters--faults that can be mended, which this cannot."
"I hope none on my part, my noble Prince?"
"No, no," said the old soldier; "you do your duty well, and I shall beg you this night to let me have ten of your stout fellows to throw out a little way upon the high road. There is no knowing how soon the Bavarian may be upon us; he will let no grass grow beneath his horse's hoofs, for he knows as well as I do that if he do not fight a battle very soon, and win a victory, his men must starve. Could we but have stopped him at Pilsen, the game would have been in our hands; but it could not be done without Mansfeld, and Mansfeld was jealous and would not act. But three days, but three days--it is all I could desire." And the old general leaned his head upon his hand, and fell into deep thought.
"He cannot be here till Monday," said Algernon Grey; "we gained two marches on him."
"To-morrow's sun will not set," answered the Prince, "without seeing him under this hill, and if I could but get the men to work, we might yet set him at defiance, and let his host famish at our feet till they vanished away like the spring snow. But these people will do nothing; all this afternoon has been wasted, so will to-morrow; not a redoubt will be ready, nor a line. However, we must not blame them so much; they are disheartened; they hear of nothing but disaster; they have little food themselves, and want their Prince's presence amongst them. Here he is scarcely ever with the army; his time is passed in revelry, devotion, pleasure, and preaching, turn by turn: now listening to the ravings of Scultetus, or looking into the eyes of Amilia of Solms, or tripping it in the dance, or listening to the drivelling of a jester. We must have him amongst us, my young friend, this very night, if it be possible; if not, very early to-morrow. I say not we shall lose the battle--God forbid!--but I say the only way to make them even stand to their colours is to give them their Prince's presence. Things look dark enough, and we must lose no chance. Frederic is fighting for a crown, and he must not mind the labours of a bloody day."
"He does not want courage, assuredly," replied Algernon Grey; "and I doubt not he will be here in the hour of danger."
"Nor I," answered the old Prince; "but for any moral effect he must, be here before. He must show the men that he will live or die with them: then there is no fear; for, if he once displays energy, the disaffected in yon town will fear to show their heads; and should we be driven from our position on this hill, the guns from Prague will still protect us, or the walls of Prague shelter us.--But, now, to what brings me hither. I have thought to-night that we must move the Queen to send her husband hither, and I have considered how this can best be done; with the King I have tried all means. The task must fall upon you, my young friend; you are her countryman, of high rank and station in your own land, have distinguished yourself in her husband's service, and for twelve months have exposed your person and employed your means in upholding his throne, without any reward but honour. You must go to her--must see her--must urge upon her the necessity of the case. He is now revelling, and will be so employed till twelve; get on your horse then at once, and see what can be done."
"But, indeed, General," said Algernon Grey, "I must have some authority for this; otherwise, in the first place, I may not obtain admission to the Queen, and if I do, she may look upon my interference as gross impertinence."
"Authority!" said the bluff old Prince, "here it is. I knew what you would say, and therefore wrote these few words, namely, 'Your Majesty will credit all that is said to you by Algernon Grey, on the part of your devoted servant, Christian of Anhalt.' The rest I must leave to your eloquence; and now, if you would save the army, away with all speed and use your best endeavours."
Algernon Grey cast down his eyes and meditated for several moments. "It is a delicate task," he said at length, "a very delicate task, General; first, to speak to a wife on the conduct of her husband; next, to speak to a subject on the conduct of her King; for, though she is Queen, still she is his subject; and more than all, to talk to one so placed as she is, of the faults of him whom she is bound to honour, and does love.--My noble Prince, I would fain not undertake it. If there be any one in all your camp whom you can trust with this same sad and perilous errand, I do beseech you put it not upon me."
The old Prince of Anhalt took him by both hands and grasped them hard: "Your very sense of the difficulty and importance of the bitter task," he said, "is proof enough that there is no one so fitted for it as yourself. I do beseech you, my friend, undertake it. If you would save this realm; if you would preserve the crown for the Elector Frederic; if you would rescue from ruin that sweet lady whom we all love and serve; if you would avert evils innumerable, massacre, torture, persecution, the overthrow of the pure faith in this kingdom, go about the task at once; make one last effort for our only hope of victory; and then, let the result be what it may, lay down your head in peace, knowing that you, at least, have done your best."
Algernon Grey wrung his hand hard. "I will go, noble old man," he said, "I will go; though it cost me one of the bitterest pangs that my heart has ever felt; though it may be the cause of much after-sorrow, I will go. It shall not be said that anything was wanting on my side, to support the part I have espoused."
"Thanks, thanks!" cried the old Prince of Anhalt. "Ho, without there! Bring up Master Algernon Grey's horse, quick!" "My lord," he continued, "God knows whether any of us here will see the end of to-morrow. Ere you return I shall have lain down to take one sort of sleep, which, before the next day's sunset, may be changed for another kind. If we never meet again, remember I die grateful to you for this act and many others. A better soldier never lived than you have shown yourself under me; and old Christian of Anhalt, having seen some fields in his days, may be as good a judge of such things as many men. But, above all, I thank you for that which you are now going to do. I know how bitter it is, and that you would rather meet a hundred enemies with lance in hand than this fair lady, on such an errand as that which you go upon. But it is for the advancement of the cause--for its salvation, I might say; and I know that is enough for you. Do not bring me any message back, should be sorry to be refused with courtly words and if he comes, that will be sufficient answer."
"What is the pass-word at the gates, my lord?" asked Algernon Grey, as he heard a horse trotted up.
"The crown," answered the old General. "Now, away, away! What do you keep him for, boy?"
"Tell the Queen," said young Christian of Anhalt, who had caught his friend by the arm, "that if there be a battle to-morrow I will carry her glove into the midst of the enemy's host and bring her back news of victory, or not return at all."
"She will believe you, Christian," replied Algernon Grey. "Farewell for the present: I shall see you again;" and, turning away, he quitted the tent and mounted his horse.
"I and Frill will run beside you, noble sir," said the young gentleman's servant, Tony, as he held the stirrup; "I would not have any more horses out, for the poor beasts are tired, and I have a shrewd notion that they may be wanted to-morrow. Whither do you speed, sir?"
"To the town and to the palace," answered his master, briefly; and, riding on with the stout servant on one side of his horse, and the page on the other, he reached the gates of Prague in about a quarter of an hour.
Dull and gloomy was the scene under the archway, where, with nought but a wicket open, some half-dozen men, armed with corslets, salad, and partisan, kept guard by a large fire, which threw a lurid glare over the heavy masses of stonework. The towers of the gate rose high on either side; the dark arch frowned above; and through the aperture beyond appeared nought but a faint glimpse of a small irregular place d'armes, and a long, black-looking street leading into the town.
"Who comes here?" cried a soldier, as Algernon Grey approached; and at the same time a partisan was dropped to his horse's poitral.
"A friend," replied the young gentleman--"The crown!"
"Welcome, friend! Pass the crown," answered the soldier; and the gates were instantly thrown open to give him admission.
Taking his way slowly along the dim streets, Algernon Grey mounted towards the palace, and at length reached the open space before the vast old building called the Hradschin, where the court of Bohemia was then lodged. In many of the windows there was a light; but from one long line of casements a broad glare poured forth upon the night; and he could not but feel some bitterness of spirit as he thought that there Frederic was holding a senseless revel, when his friends and his soldiers were encamped without, waiting in privation and hardship the attack of a superior enemy.
Giving his horse to the servant with orders to wait there till he returned, and his sword to the page with directions to follow him, the young cavalier approached the gates of the palace, entered the first court, and mounted the steps on the left. Some guards before the gates demanded the pass-word; and the attendants within made many difficulties when they heard that he sought an audience of the Queen. One of them said at length, however, shrugging his shoulders and turning away, that the Queen was ill in bed. Algernon Grey, without losing temper, demanded to see any of her ladies. "The Princess Amelia of Solms," he said, "the Countess of Loewenstein, or any of them."
"I will go and see," answered the man, who, it seemed, did not know the visitor; and the young Englishman was detained in the entrance-hall fully ten minutes before he received any reply to his application. During that time a number of richly dressed servants passed and repassed, carrying large silver dishes, gilt flagons of wine, and plates of sweetmeats; but at length the attendant to whom he had spoken returned, and, in a much more deferential tone, requested him to follow. Leaving the page below, he accompanied his guide up one of the many staircases of the building, through a long corridor, down two or three steps, along another narrow passage, and then across a large sort of vestibule supported by heavy stone pillars. At the farther side of this hall the servant threw open a door, desiring Algernon Grey to enter, and saying, "One of the ladies will come to you in a moment, sir."
Algernon Grey gazed around. The aspect of the chamber was certainly not fitted to raise any very cheerful thoughts. There were splendid draperies and hangings, it is true, but of dull and cheerless colours; and the rest of the furniture, though richly gilt, was rude in its forms, and antique in its fashion. One solitary sconce was lighted, projecting through the arras from a long limb of gilded iron; and as he marked the faint light striving to penetrate the gloom, and the rays losing themselves in the deep hues of the drapery, he thought, "Thus shine the hopes of Bohemia."
The moment after, he heard a door creak on the right-hand side of the room, and, turning round, saw the tapestry quickly pushed back.