CHAPTER XXV.
In Swabia did thy princely father reign
Beloved, and all did glad allegiance yield;
And of the people, many now remain
Who fought beneath thy banners in the field.
Sure memory cannot be in Swabia dead.
Towards Swabia let us then our footsteps turn,
And as we the Black Forest's mazes tread,
Reviving hopes will in our bosoms burn.
L. Uhland.
So hot a summer as that of the year 1519, had scarcely ever been known in Würtemberg. The whole country had submitted to the power of the League, and its inhabitants now hoped their troubles were at an end. But the original intentions of its chiefs only began now to be fully developed, and it was evident that the mere reoccupation of Reutlingen was not the sole object for which they had coalesced. They were still to be indemnified for their expenses, and to be requited for their services. Some were for dividing Würtemberg equally among themselves, others proposed to sell it to Austria, whilst a third party insisted upon keeping it under the administration of Ulerich's children, subject to their own guardianship. They quarrelled about the possession of the country, to which none of them could found the slightest claims. Disunion and party spirit spread their baneful effects among them, now that they had satisfied their revenge in driving the legitimate lord from his dominions. The expenses of the war were to be met, and there was no one who could or would pay. The knights held this a favourable opportunity to declare themselves independent. Citizens and peasants were drained of their money by continual forced contributions, their fields were desolated and trodden under foot, and they saw no prospect of recovering their losses. Neither would the clergy contribute to the expenses of the war; so that the result of it was only dispute and violence. Many a heart felt how cruelly their legitimate prince had been persecuted, and bitterly repented having driven him into banishment, far from the land of his fathers. And when they compared his system of government with that of their present rulers, they found they had not bettered themselves by the change; on the contrary, they were much worse off than before. But they were too much under subjection to venture to publish their grievances.
The discontent of the people did not escape the government of the League. Their ears were not shut to "much strange and wicked talk," as we read in old official documents. They tried to gain adherents to their cause by rigorous measures. They spread lies concerning the Duke; one of which was, that he had cut a boy of noble blood in halves, of the name of Wilhelm von Janowitz. It made a great noise at the time, but when he was pointed out some time afterwards to a Swiss, as the man of whom the enemies of Ulerich had spread the report, he gave for answer, "He must indeed have been a good carpenter who put the boy so well together again." The priests were ordered to announce from the pulpit, that whoever spoke favourably of the Duke was to be put in prison, and those who supported or assisted him were to lose their eyes, and perhaps their heads.
Ulerich had many faithful friends among the country people, who secretly gave him intelligence how things were going on in Würtemberg. He remained in Mömpelgard with the men who had followed him in his misfortune, waiting a favourable moment to return to his country. He wrote to many Princes, imploring their assistance, but none would bestir themselves in his behalf. He petitioned also the Electors, assembled for the purpose of electing a new Emperor. The only aid they rendered him was to oblige the new Emperor to add an additional clause to his contract, favourable to Würtemberg and the Duke,--but he paid no attention to it. Though he felt himself thus deserted by all the world, he did not give way to despondency, but set all his energies at work to recover his lost country by the resources of his own mind. Many circumstances appeared to favour his project: the League, having satisfied themselves that no one would dare shelter the exile in the country, disbanded most of their troops, composed chiefly of lansquenet, retaining only weak garrisons in the towns and castles; and in Stuttgardt itself, the capital, there remained but few infantry under their banners.
These measures of the League, however, were the cause of creating a formidable enemy to themselves, in a quarter they did not suspect, but which very soon contributed essentially to produce a change in the Duke's favour. This enemy were the common foot soldiers, or the lansquenet. This body of men, collected together from all ends and corners of the empire, and composed of all nations, generally offered their services to those who paid them best. The cause for which they were to fight was perfectly indifferent to them. Being a licentious set, and difficult to be restrained even by severity of discipline, they indemnified themselves by robbery, murder, plunder, and forcibly exacting contributions, if they were not regularly paid. George von Fronsberg had been the first to keep them in some measure in subordination, and by the renown of his name, by daily exercise, and unbending severity, succeeded in forming them into something like an army. He divided them into regular companies and brigades, appointed special officers to each, and taught them to move and fight in columns and masses. These men now shewed that they came from a good school, for when the League disbanded them they did not, as formerly, separate and spread over the country, seeking service individually, but confederating together, formed twelve companies, chose their own commanders from among themselves, and appointed their general in the person of a man who went by the name of Long Peter. Being exasperated against the League, and living upon plunder and forced contributions, they became the dread of the whole country. Anarchy had spread its baneful spirit throughout Würtemberg to such a degree, that no one was able to resist their depredations. The party of the League was enfeebled by continual disunion, and was too much employed with its own affairs to think of freeing the impoverished land of this formidable band. The knights, being at variance with each other, remained shut up in their castles, looking on with indifference at the state of affairs. The garrisons of the towns were weak, and not able to repel them by force. The citizens and peasantry, when they were not hard pressed by these marauders, treated them civilly, being equally averse to the government of the League, whom no one now favoured; it was even said they were not disinclined to reinstate the Duke, by the assistance of the same arms that had dethroned him.
On a fine morning of the month of August this body was assembled, and encamped in a meadow of a valley touching the boundary of Baden. Tall black firs and pines encompassed the spot on three sides, and formed part of the Black Forest, with the rivulet called the Würm running through it. Partly under the shade of the wood, partly stretched out among the bushes of the meadow, the little army was distributed about in different groups, taking their rest. At the distance of about two hundred paces were to be seen advanced posts of armed men on the look-out, whose shining lances and lighted matches inspired dread and awe to the by-passer. In the middle of the valley, under the shade of a large oak tree, sat five men, round an out-spread cloak, which served them for a table, where they were playing at a game of cards, called to this day lansquenet. These men were distinguished from the rest of their companions by a broad red scarf, hanging down over the shoulder and breast; but their dress had otherwise much the same ragged worn-out appearance with the others. Some of them wore helmets, others large felt hats, bound with iron, and all of them leather jerkins, of every possible shade and colour, which long service in rain, dust, and bivouacing had imparted to them. Upon a closer inspection, there were two things which particularly distinguished them from the rest of their comrades. They had neither gun nor pike, which were the ordinary weapons of the lansquenet, but wore rapiers of uncommon length and breadth. They also carried in their hats and helmets, in fashion with the nobility and leaders of armies of those days, cock's tail feathers of various colours, assuming to themselves the rank of superiority.
These five men, particularly one who was seated with his back to the tree, appeared much interested in the game which they were playing. He wore a hat with a brim of the breadth of a good sized millstone, trimmed with dingy gold lace, and ornamented in front with a gilt portrait of Saint Peter, out of which sprang two enormous red cock's feathers. His language was a compound of French, Italian, and Hungarian, put together in such strange mixture, that he was scarcely intelligible to those to whom he addressed himself. No one knew what country gave him birth; but he commanded a certain respect among his comrades from the fact of his having served in most of the armies of Europe, and been in nearly all the campaigns of his day; and as he generally prefaced most of his phrases with oaths which he had picked up in the countries he had passed through, and which he pronounced after his own fashion, he thought to render himself thereby of more consequence among those over whom he had assumed the title of general. His beard was dressed in the Hungarian fashion, for being twisted up with pitch, it stuck out on both sides from under his nose a whole span's breadth in the air, much like two iron spikes.
"Canto cacramento!" cried this man, with a threatening bass voice, "the little knave is mine; I'll cut him with the king of spades!"
"It's mine, with your permission," cried his neighbour, "and the king into the bargain; there's the queen of spades!"
"Morbleu!" vociferated the other, in a rage; "do you want to take the trick from your commander, Captain Löffler? For shame, for shame! he is a rebel who dares do that. May my soul be punished, but you want to take the command away from me." The general, for such he was, frowned furiously, pushed his hat off his ears, and discovered a large red scar on his forehead, which heightened the savage appearance of his look.
"There is no military discipline at play," General Peter, "answered the other. You may order us captains to blockade a town, and raise contributions, but at play one man is as good as another."
"You are mutinous, a rebel against the authorities! Thunder and lightning! were it not against my honour, I would cut you into a hundred pieces;--but play on."
"There's an ace," said one. "Here's a quart," said another. "I cut with the ten," exclaimed a third. "And here's the knave,--who can take him?" said the fourth player.
"I can," cried the large man; "there's the king,--Morbleu! the trick is mine."
"Where did you get the king?" said a little thin man, with a cunning face, small searching eyes, and shrill voice, "didn't I see it at the bottom of the pack when you dealt. He has cheated! Long Peter has cheated, by all the saints!"
"Muckerle, captain of the eighth company! I advise you to hold your tongue," said the general; "Bassa manelka! I don't take a joke,--the mouse should not play with the lion."
"And I say it again,--where did you get the king? I'll prove you false before the pope and the king of France, thou foul player."
"Muckerle," replied the general, drawing his sword deliberately out of its scabbard, "pray another Ave Maria and a Gratias, for as soon as the game is over you are a dead man."
The other three men were roused from a state of indifference at these angry words. They sided with the little captain, and gave the general to understand clearly that they thought he was capable of the imputed meanness. He, however, looked big, and full of importance, and swore he had not cheated. "If the holy Peter, my gracious patron, who I carry on my hat, could speak, he would bear me witness, as true as I am a Christian lansquenet, that I have not played false!"
"He played fair," said a strange voice, which appeared to issue from the tree. The men crossed themselves to defend them from an evil spirit, the gallant general even turned pale, and let drop his cards; when a peasant stept forward from behind the tree, armed with a dagger, and having a guitar slung over his shoulder with a leathern strap. He beheld the group with an undaunted eye, and said, "That gentleman did not cheat; I saw all the cards that were dealt to him."
"Ah! you are a fine fellow," said the general, much pleased; "as I am an honest lansquenet, what you say is all right."
"But how is this?" said the little captain, with a sharp look, "how did this peasant get here without being announced by the piquet? He is a spy, and deserves to be hung."
"Don't be astonished, Muckerle, he is no spy; come and sit down by me, my friend, you are a musician, I see, by your instrument hanging over your shoulder, like a Spaniard going to serenade his love."
"Yes, sir! I am a poor musician; your guard allowed me to pass when I came through the wood. I saw you playing, and I ventured to look on."
The commanders of this free corps not being accustomed to hear themselves addressed in such polite terms, took a liking to the peasant, and invited him courteously to seat himself among them; for they had learned in the military service of foreign countries that kings and princes often went about in the guise of minstrels.
The general filled a cup of wine out of a pewter bottle, offered it to the little captain, and said, with a good-natured smile, "Muckerle, what I drink shall be my death, if I don't forget everything that has passed between us! an end to strife and quarrel. We won't play any more, gentlemen: I love a song and the sound of the guitar--what say you to some music?"
The men agreed, and threw the cards aside. The peasant tuned his instrument, and asked what he should sing.
"Give us a song upon card-playing!" cried one of the party.
The musician considered awhile, and sung the following upon the game of lansquenet, which they had just been playing.
"Cinque, quatre, and ace
Bring many a man to disgrace;
Quatre, and cinque, and tré
Make many to cry well-a-day;
An ace, a seize, and a deuce
Make many an empty house;
A quatre, a trois, and cinque
Cause many pure water to drink;
A cinque, a trois, and quatre
Make parents' and children's eyes water;
From cinque, and quatre, and seize,
Miss Catherine and Miss Elize
Must long unmarried remain,
Unless from your play you refrain."
Long Peter and his associates praised his singing, and reached him the flask with their thanks. "May God bless you!" said the singer, as he returned the bottle; "I wish you luck in your campaign. If I don't mistake, you are the commanders of the League, and are on your march to the enemy. May I ask who you are going against?"
The men looked and smiled at each other, but the general answered him: "you are quite in the wrong. We did, indeed, serve the League formerly, but we are now free and our own masters, ready to assist any one who wants us."
"This will be a good year for the Swiss, for it is said the Duke will return to his country with their assistance," said the peasant.
"May the Swiss be hunted by wolves," said the general, "for having treated him so ill! The good Duke set all his hopes upon them, and, diavolo maledetto! did they not desert him in Blaubeuren?"
"Yes, it was too bad," said Captain Muckerle; "but when one looks at the circumstance in its proper light, it served him half right, because he should have known them better. May the devil take them all!"
"They were the Duke's last resource," replied the musician; "but if he had trusted to such men as you, the League would still be at Ulm."
"You have spoken a true word there, my hearty friend!" said the captain. "He ought to have preferred the lansquenets before those Swiss dogs. And if he trusts to them now, I know what will happen. I say it again: he should take lansquenets. Is it not so, Magdeburger?"
"That's my opinion also," said the Magdeburger: "no other than lansquenets can seat the Duke upon his chair again. The Swiss only know how to use their long halberds; that's all their art. But you ought to see us load our guns, how we lay them in the fork, and fire them with a match. No one can come near us in that manœuvre. The Swiss take half an hour to fire their guns, but we only half of a quarter."
"With all respect, gentlemen of this noble corps," said the peasant, raising his cap respectfully, "the Duke should certainly have thrown himself upon your bounty. But the League rewarded you too well for the poor Duke to be able to crave your assistance."
"Rewarded, did you say?" cried the captain of the fifth company, and laughed; "yes, those Swabian dogs would have melted gold out of lead if they could! But I say they paid us ill, and if his grace the Duke will take me, my services are at his command."
"You are right, Staberl," said the general, and stroked his beard. "Morbleu! the cat likes to have his back stroked:--if the Duke pays well, the whole corps will join him."
"Well, you shall soon see that," said the peasant, with a cunning smile; "have you had an answer to your message to the Duke?"
The general's whole countenance became as red as fire at this question. "Mordelement! Who are you, child of man, who knows my secret? Who told you I had sent to the Duke?"
"Did you, Peter, send to him? What secret have you between each other that we should not know? Tell us immediately," said the Magdeburger.
"Well, I thought it was my duty to think for you all again, as I always have done, and sent a man to the Duke in our name, and with our compliments, to know if he required our services? Our terms were, half a broad piece a man per month, and for us generals and captains a gold florin, with four measures of old wine."
"Those are no bad terms: a gold florin a month! none of us will object to them. Have you had an answer from the Duke?" said the Magdeburger.
"Not yet," said the general. "But, bassa manelka! tell me, how do you come to know my secret, peasant, or I'll cut off your ear, and pin it to my hat? Tell me immediately, or off it comes."
"Long Peter," cried the little captain Muckerle, "let him go in peace, for God's sake! he is a resolute man, and possesses the art of witchcraft. I recollect his face as well as if it was but to-day, when we had orders to arrest him in Ulm, and were sent to look for him at the stable of Herrn von Kraft, the clerk of the council, where he resided. He was a spy, and was able to make himself smaller and smaller, not bigger than a sparrow, and flew away from us."
"What!" cried the gallant general, and edged away from the peasant; "is this the man? Why did not the magistrates of Ulm order all the sparrows to be shot, because a Würtemberger spy had turned himself into one?"
"That's him," whispered Muckerle; "that's the fifer of Hardt; I knew him as soon as I saw him."
The general and his companions did not recover their astonishment for some time. They beheld the man of whom many wonderful stories had been related with mingled curiosity and apprehension. Hans was clever enough, however, to understand what they whispered to each other, without the appearance of remarking the state of surprise he had created among them. At length, Long Peter, the official organ of the rest, took heart, twisted his whiskers, and, taking off his enormous hat, thus addressed the fifer of Hardt: "Pardon us, worthy companion, and highly respected fifer of Hardt, that we have treated you with so little ceremony; but how could we know who it was we had among us? be many times welcome; I have long wished to see so renowned a man as the fifer of Hardt, who had the power of flying away from Ulm like a sparrow in the middle of the day."
"Let's have done with those old stories," interrupted the fifer, hastily. "I heard this day from the Duke, who desired me to find you out, to know if you were still inclined to join him upon the terms he has proposed."
"Canto cacramento! he is a good man! a gold ducat a month and four measures of wine daily! Long may he live!" cried the general.
"When will he come?" asked captain Löffler. "Where shall we meet him?"
"This very day, if no ill luck attends him. He was to advance upon Heimsheim this morning, where the garrison is weak, and, when he has taken it, he will come on this way."
"Look! there rides a man in armour, to all appearance a knight!" The men looked towards the end of the valley, and remarked a helmet and armour shining in the sun, with a horse occasionally visible. The fifer of Hardt jumped up and climbed the oak, whence he could overlook the valley with greater ease. The horseman was too distant from him to be able to recognise his features, but he thought he knew the scarf which he wore, and that it was the person he had been expecting to appear.
"What do you see?" said the men; "is it one riding by chance through the wood, or do you think he comes from the Duke?"
"That's him with the white and blue scarf," said the fifer; "that's his long hair, and his seat on horseback. Oh, precious youth, welcome back to Würtemberg! He observes your advanced post, and rides towards it; only look how the fellows present their lances and spread out their legs!"
"Yes, yes, the lansquenet knows the arts of war; no one dare pass the spot where the commanders are, without knowing his business," said the general.
"Stop! they are calling to him; he speaks to them; they point this way; he comes!" cried the fifer, who came down from the tree with a joyful countenance.
"Diavolo maledetto! bassam terendete! They won't let him ride alone, I hope? Ah! I see one of them has hold of his bridle 1 How? It is really a knight that comes!
"A nobleman as good as any in the empire," answered the fifer; "the friend and favourite of the Duke." Upon hearing this they all stood up, for, though they fancied themselves men of importance and rank, they were aware of their being only lansquenets, and bound to pay proper respect to their superiors. The general seated himself again, with an air of gravity, at the foot of the oak--stroked his beard to make it shine--arranged his hat with the cock's feathers properly--supported his hand on his enormous sword--and in this manner awaited the arrival of the stranger.