The insurrectionary spirit of the burghers did not escape the notice of Christoph Schwarzenberg, the Leaguist governor. He perceived, but too late, the mistake that had been committed in disbanding the army. He applied to the representatives of his party assembled at Nördlingen for assistance, but gave them no hope of holding Stuttgardt unless they sent immediate relief. Scarcely had he time to make some feeble preparations for defence, when the rapid advance of the Duke checked his ardour. Perceiving he could not trust the citizens, that the nobles would not stand by him, and aware that the garrison was not strong enough even to ensure the safety of the gates of the city, he absconded in the night with the state council to Esslingen. Their flight was so sudden and secret, that their families even were ignorant of it, and no one in the town suspected the intentions of the governor and his senate. The partisans of the League, therefore, never dreaming of the desertion of their chiefs, treated the news of the approach of the Duke with indifference, for they did not believe the report of his being in the immediate neighbourhood.
The market-place in those days stood in the heart of the city. But even then two considerable suburbs, the Saint Leonhard and the field of tournament, were built around the town, provided with outer ditches, walls, and strong gates, which gave them also the appearance of fortified cities. They were separated from the old town which possessed its own walls and gates, and its inhabitants looked down with contempt on those of the suburbs. The market-place was the spot where the burghers were accustomed to assemble, according to the fashion of olden times when any extraordinary occurrence took place; and therefore, on the eventful evening before the day of the Assumption of the Virgin, the citizens streamed in crowds to this central point. Though every man in those days carried arms with impunity, which gave to an assembled multitude a fearful appearance, still the honest burghers of Stuttgardt would not have dared to utter, in the day-time, what they now ventured to do in the dusk. Had many of them been asked their opinion of the Duke in the forenoon, they would have answered, "What do I care about him? I am a peaceable citizen:" but upon this occasion, they raised their voices, I and cried, "We'll open the gates to the Duke! away with the Leaguists! Würtemberg for ever!"
The moon shone bright on the assembled crowd, which waved to and fro in restless motion, whilst a confused murmur seemed to indicate indecision as to what was to be done, perhaps because no one was bold enough to put himself forward on the occasion. Many heads looked out of the windows of the gable-ended houses which surrounded the market-place; they were the wives and families of the congregated citizens, listening with intense anxiety to what was going on: for it must be observed that the Stuttgardt ladies were in those days equally given to curiosity as they now are, and in their hearts pitied the Duke.
The hum of voices became louder and louder, whilst the feeling which ran through the crowd became more distinct. The cry "let's drive; the soldiers from the gates, and open them to the Duke," passed from mouth to mouth, when a tall, meagre-looking man was seen to spring up on a stone bank which surrounded the fountain, whence he overlooked the assemblage of burghers. He flourished his long arms about in the air, opened his large mouth, and hallooed with all his might to obtain a hearing. The noise about him having partially subsided, a few detached words and sentences were heard by the immediate bystanders. "What! do the honourable burghers of Stuttgardt intend to break the oath which they have sworn to the League? To whom do you want to open the gates--to the Duke? He can't have a very strong force with him, for he has no money to pay them, and he will make you open your purses. If you surrender to him, you will have ten thousand florins to pay. Do you hear? ten thousand florins, I say!"
"Who is that lanky fellow?" the citizens asked one another. "He's right," said one of them, "we shall have to pay handsomely."--"Is he a citizen, that man up there?"--"Who are you?" said one of the boldest; "how do you know we shall have to pay?"
"I am the renowned Doctor Calmus," said the speaker, with solemn voice, "and am quite sure of it. And who do you want to drive away? The Emperor, the Empire, the League? Will you run your heads against so many rich lords? and why? for Duke Utz, who only throws dust in your eyes! Do you forget his oppressive game laws, the least part of his tyranny? He has no more money left; he is a beggar, and has squandered everything in Mömpelgard----"
"Make him keep silence!" cried the burghers: "What is that to you? you are not one of our citizens; away with the bald-headed mouse,--kill him,--throw him into the fountain to feed the fish!--Long live the Duke!"
Doctor Calmus raised his voice again, but was overpowered by the loud shouts of the bystanders.
At this moment another troop of burghers arrived in great haste from the suburbs. "The Duke is before the Red Hill gate," they cried, "with cavalry and infantry. Where is the governor and his council? He will fire into the town if the gates be not instantly opened! Away with the Leaguists!--Who is a good Würtemberger?"
The tumult increased. Perceiving the crowd still undecided, another speaker mounted the bank: he was a comely-looking man, who, for a moment, imposed on the crowd by his outward appearance. "Consider, honourable men," he cried: "what will the illustrious council of the League say if you----"