CHAPTER III.

LADY REGINA.

In the beginning of October, 1631, it was a dull autumn day, about three or four weeks after the battle of Breitenfeld, and in one of the rooms of the tower of the castle of Würzburg the beautiful Regina von Emmeritz was sitting with several of her attendants; they were all working on a banner of white silk with the image of the Holy Virgin on it. It was intended for a standard of victory to stimulate the troops defending the castle. The young maidens indulged in an animated conversation, for the terror of the castle, the old, selfish bishop, had just started off, as he alleged, on a journey through the diocese, but in reality to escape Gustaf Adolf's approaching warriors. Trembling for his treasures, he had previously entrusted the defence of the town and castle to the valiant and trustworthy captain of horse, Keller, with fifteen hundred men; and this commander, relying upon the impregnable position of the fortress on the banks of the Main, had assured his reverence that the heretic king should crush his head against the walls, before any of his godless host obtained an entrance.

The lovely Regina was scarcely sixteen, and her curls were dark as the night, cheeks rosy as the dawn, and black eyes shining like two stars which at midnight mirror themselves in a mountain lake. She was the pet and idol of the aged bishop; he had therefore unwillingly left her with his other treasures in the castle, depending, however, upon Keller's assurance that the thick walls well mounted with heavy guns, were, in such uncertain times, the best harbour for beauty and gold; and Keller was a commander of fidelity and honour; with such a precious trust he would sooner bury himself underneath the ruins of the fortress than surrender.

Lady Regina raised her brilliant eyes from the embroidery and glanced through the little turret window over the river, where at that moment a carriage, escorted by some troopers, was crossing the bridge from the town to the castle.

"Who is this traveller?" she said, with the concentrated gaze which rarely fixed itself upon any object except the large and beautiful marble image of the Madonna in her sanctuary.

"Ah!" exclaimed Ketchen, the youngest and most talkative of the maidens, "ah, Holy Virgin, how charming it is to live in such times as these! Every day, new faces, stately cavaliers, brave young knights, and now and then a little feast in town. It is quite a different thing from sitting shut up in a cloister, and hearing the monks chant De Profundis from morn till eve. Yes," continued she saucily, "may his grace, the bishop, only stay away a good long time!"

"Ketchen," admonished Regina, "take care not to speak ill of the services and masses of the monks! Remember that our confessor, Father Hieronymus, is a member of the Holy Inquisition, and that the castle dungeons are deep and dark."

Ketchen remained silent for a moment. But directly afterwards she boldly said,

"If I were in your place, lady, I would rather think of the handsome Count of Lichtenstein, than of that terrible Father Hieronymus. He is a valiant knight; God grant that he may return victorious from the war against the heretics!"

"May they all be exterminated by fire and sword!" interjected one of the girls in a devout manner.

"Poor heretics!" said Ketchen smiling.

"Beware!" repeated Lady Regina, with naïve earnestness. "A heretic deserves no mercy. Anyone who kills a heretic has pardon for seven sins; Father Hieronymus has often thus instructed me. To hate the heretics is the eighth sacrament, and to love a single one of them is to consign your soul to eternal torment."

Regina's black eyes emitted fire with these words. One could easily see that the worthy father's teachings had taken deep root in her soul.

Still Ketchen did not refrain.

"It is said that their king is good and noble, and that he shelters all the weak, and does not allow his soldiers to plunder and outrage their enemies."

"Satan often assumes the disguise of an angel."

"They also say that his men are brave and humane. I myself heard an old Italian soldier tell the knights in the armoury how seventy men belonging to a heretic people called Finns, defended their king for more than an hour against fifteen hundred Neapolitans. And when most of these Finns had fallen, the rest were succoured and finally triumphed; afterwards they bound up the wounds of their enemies as well as their own."

Lady Regina rose, and was about to return a quick answer to this unpalatable speech, but at that moment a servant appeared at the door, and announced that the Count of Lichtenstein, sick and wounded, had arrived at the castle, and craved shelter. The young lady, who, as the niece of the old bishop, took the part of hostess of the castle in his absence, immediately hastened down to welcome the new arrival, who was a distant relative of the family.

The maidens now exchanged significant glances, as if they considered this event especially opportune. It had long been gossiped amongst them that the old bishop had chosen the count as the future husband of the young lady. But in vain had they endeavoured to discover any signs of emotion on the part of their young mistress at the intelligence of his arrival. If Lady Regina entertained any tender passion, she well knew how to conceal it.

"Is it true," asked one of the girls, "that the king of the heretics has won a great victory over the soldiers of the true faith, and is now approaching this castle with his godless army?"

"So it is said," answered another. "But he is unable to come here. Our people have erected the image of the Swedish saint, Brigitta, in his path, in Thüringer forest, and she will stop his progress."

In the meanwhile, Lady Regina had ordered one of the bishop's own apartments to be put in order for the guest, and provided in every way for his comfort. The young Count of Lichtenstein was a proud and stately youth, dark as a Spaniard, and with eyes almost as bright as Regina's. He approached the beautiful hostess with faltering steps, and with an ardent glance, before which Regina cast down her eyes.

"How grateful I should be to heaven," he said, "for these wounds, which have procured me the happiness of having such a beautiful hostess!"

The count's wounds were numerous, but not dangerous. Taken captive at Breitenfeld, he had shortly afterwards, still weak from his wounds, been exchanged, and immediately hastened here, to regain health and strength in the neighbourhood of his heart's mistress.

"But," he added, "I heard with great alarm that the enemy, seeking whom they may devour, were on their march hither to the rich vales of Franconia. Then I hurried, quickly as I could, to share with you, beautiful Regina, all these dangers and terrors. Be calm! Königshofen will make a stand against them, and Father Hieronymus, who, also wounded, escaped from the disastrous field of Breitenfeld, is busy inciting the country people to resistance all along the enemy's advance.

"And so you think," anxiously asked Regina, "that these terrible heretics will venture as far as this place?"

"The protection of the saints will be with beauty and faith," answered the count evasively. "Besides, we shall soon receive more reliable news."

As he spoke, Regina looked out of the window, and perceived a troop of horsemen, who were hurrying at full speed towards the fortress.

"I cannot be mistaken," she exclaimed; "it is Father Hieronymus himself who returns here."

"A bad omen," muttered the count between his teeth.

Lady Regina was right; it was Father Hieronymus who at that moment rode over the drawbridge. In appearance, the father was a little insignificant man, thin and pallid, with sharp features, and deeply sunk, hollow eyes, whose quick glance fled inquiringly from one object to another. He still wore the long sword suspended from the rope round his waist. But the bald spot no longer shone on the crown of his head; wounded at that place, he wore over it a sort of skull-cap or calotte of leather, the black colour of which made a ghastly contrast with his cadaverous-looking face. Never had the dreaded Jesuit showed himself in so forbidding a form. The men-at-arms stood at attention, and all the servants in the castle hastened to receive his commands. A secret anxiety took possession of all the bystanders. It looked as if terror and death had ridden in his train through the gates of Würzburg Castle.

The monk hastily surveyed the garrison drawn up in the courtyard, and then greeted Lady Regina with a smile, which was probably intended to make him look more agreeable, but which had exactly the opposite effect.

"St. Petrus and all the saints protect you, gracious lady! The times are very awful, very bad. The Holy Virgin has allowed the vile heretics to penetrate to our very gates--on account of our sins!" he added, crossing himself devoutly.

"And Königshofen?" inquired Count Fritz, who anticipated the answer.

"The treacherous commander has capitulated."

"But did not the peasants oppose the enemy's march through the forest?"

"All scattered like chaff--on account of our sins."

"And the holy Brigitta's image?"

"The vile heretics have placed it as a scarecrow in a wheat-field. But," continued the Jesuit, his voice acquiring suddenly a commanding tone, "what is this I see, my daughter? Why are you still here, and the castle filled with women and children, while the enemy may arrive at any moment at your gates?"

"Lady Regina shall never need a protector as long as I am alive," exclaimed Count Fritz.

"The castle is provisioned for a whole year," said Regina timidly. "But, worthy father, you are fatigued, you are wounded, and need rest. Allow me to dress your wounds; you are hurt in the head."

"It is nothing, my daughter. Do not think of me. You must fly instantly to the impregnable fortress of Aschaffenburg."

"Ha! I fear it is too late," exclaimed Count Fritz, who was looking out upon the river and town.

"Holy Virgin, are they already here?"

The Jesuit and Lady Regina rushed to the window. The afternoon sun was shedding its rays over Würzburg and the surrounding country. Horsemen could be seen riding at full gallop through the streets, and a whole host of panic-stricken people were rapidly moving towards the castle--monks and nuns, women and children, dragging after them a number of hand-carts containing the best of their household effects. Beyond the town, in the direction of Schweinfurter, on the east bank of the river, appeared a troop of cavalry, from whose threatening but cautious advance one could easily recognise the vanguard of the Swedish army.

"Accursed devils!" burst out the Jesuit, with an indescribable expression of hatred on his pallid face. "These heretics can fly. May the earth open and devour them!" And he ran out with frantic zeal to place himself at the head of the garrison.

The bishop's castle, also called Marienburg, raises its old walls high above the right bank of the Main. On the river side of the town the rock is high and precipitous, but on the other side sloping and easily ascended. A rampart in the shape of a half moon formed a formidable outwork before the gates; and if the enemy surmounted this obstacle, a deep moat, cut in the solid rock, awaited him on the other side; and even if he crossed this successfully, the inner and higher castle wall blocked his way, lined with steel-clad defenders, prepared to receive him with a devastating fire, and crush him with the large stones collected on the walls. The only passage over the river was a narrow bridge, and the forty-eight guns of the fortress commanded and swept the whole town and neighbourhood. From this it will be seen that Keller at the head of 1,500 valiant troops, and well provided with all necessaries, had good reason in bidding the departing bishop to be of good heart.

But Gustaf Adolf had an overwhelming reason for becoming master of this castle, cost what it would. Tilly had now drawn to himself large reinforcements, and stood, a few weeks after the battle of Breitenfeld, fully equipped and eager for revenge, with 30,000 men on the march from Hessen, to assist Würzburg.

The king summoned the town, and forced his way into the suburbs, but it was already late in the day, and the attack had to be postponed. The next morning the town surrendered. But Keller had profited by the darkness of the night to transfer his whole force, a large number of fugitives, and the portable property of the town, to the castle, after which he blew up two arches of the bridge, and thus blockaded the enemy's way.

But to return to the fortress.

That night none but the little children could sleep in the bishop's castle. Crowds of soldiers, monks, and women, were constantly arriving; one baggage-wagon after the other rattled in through the castle gates; the vaults echoed with the cries of the watch, the orders of the officers, and the children's crying, and above all this noise and confusion one could plainly hear the masses of the monks, who were invoking in the chapel the protection of the Holy Virgin and all the saints, on behalf of the threatened fortress, the strongest castle of the Catholics in all Franconia.

In order to provide for this human host, Lady Regina had not only opened the bishop's private rooms, but also the two spacious drawing-rooms set aside for her own use in the interior of the castle, and with her maids moved up to the small chambers in the east turret. In vain it was represented to her that this point was exposed to the fire of the enemy. She here had the best and most extensive prospect in the whole fortress, and was not willing to forego it. "Do not interfere with me," she said to the cautious Jesuit; "I wish to see the heretics mown down by our guns. It will be a fine spectacle."

"Amen," answered Father Hieronymus. "You remember, my daughter, that this castle is protected by two miraculous images of the Virgin, one of pure gold, the other of gilded wood. I will hang up the latter in your apartment; it will avert the enemy's shot like so many puff-balls from your turret."

At daybreak, Lady Regina was on the look-out at her little turret window. It was a glorious sight, when the sun rose over the autumn hills with their still verdant vineyards, through which the River Main wound like a glittering serpent of gold and silver in the morning light. In the town all was activity; four Swedish regiments marched in with flags flying and drums beating, their armour shining in the bright sunlight, and the plumes of their officers waving in the wind. At this sight, fear and curiosity came into conflict in the minds of the maidens.

"Do you see," said Lady Regina to Ketchen, "the two cavaliers in their yellow waistcoats, who ride at the head of the heretics?"

"How handsome they are! Now they turn round the street corner--there they are again. Just see how everyone makes way for them!"

"Send for Count Fritz. He was in the Swedish camp for more than a fortnight, and knows their leaders."

The count, who was prevented by his wounds from taking part in the defence of the castle, immediately obeyed the Lady Regina's summons.

In the meantime the Swedes had taken full possession of the town, and began to show themselves in scattered groups on the river banks. At that moment the castle guns opened fire, and here and there a ball fell among the Swedes, who immediately sought shelter behind the houses by the river.

"Holy Mary, a man was struck over there and does not move again!" cried Ketchen, who could not conceal her sympathy.

"St. Francis be praised, there is one heretic less in the world!" rejoined old Dorthe, Lady Regina's duenna, who had been appointed by Father Hieronymus to guard all her steps.

"But it is terrible to shoot a man."

Count Fritz smiled.

"Fräulein Ketchen, you should have been on the field of Breitenfeld. Nine thousand corpses!"

"It is horrible!"

"Count, can you inform me who those horsemen are, who, in spite of the storm of cannon-shot, keep on the river bank and seem to be closely examining the defences of our castle?"

"Pardon me, charming cousin, the smoke blocks my sight. Those cavaliers--upon my honour, it is the king himself, and Count Pehr Brahe. I would not be in their shoes if Father Hieronymus sees them. He would undoubtedly bring all the guns of the fortress to bear upon them."

At these words old Dorthe crept silently from the room.

"My cousin, why do you thus regard the heretic leader?"

"Beautiful Regina, why do your eyes flash fire at the thought. You are, yourself, so generous and noble, can you not understand my sympathy for a brave and chivalrous foe? The king of Sweden is a hero, well worthy of our supreme admiration, as well as of our great enmity."

"I fail to comprehend you. A heretic!"

"God preserve you from some day seeing him within these walls; you will then understand me much better. Ha! they are now preparing to assault the bridge; they are throwing planks over the destroyed arches. By Heaven, that is courageous!"

"Now, four fell at once!" exclaimed the excited Ketchen.

"I know them well," said Count Fritz, growing more and more agitated by the sounds of the battle and the loud thunder of the cannonade, which made the fortress walls shake. "They are the Scots. There are no finer soldiers in the whole Swedish army; the Scots and Finns are always in the front of the battle."

"Ah! see there, my cousin, the Scots recoil; they dare not try to leap the abyss. That truly requires superhuman courage. Twenty-four feet underneath the planks rushes the flood."

"Two young officers dash out on the planks."

"They are the youthful brothers Ramsay. I recognise them by their blue scarves. They love the same lady, and both sport her colours, without loving each other any the less."

"Oh God, guard them! Ah, Holy Virgin, this is fearful!" and Ketchen hid her face in her apron.

Before the brave and intrepid Scots could reach the centre of the planks, they lost their balance, reeled, and then fell headlong into the river. For a short time they struggled with the flood, but wounded by bullets from the castle, their strength soon failed them, and their heavy armour made them sink in the waters; another moment, and these gallant youths sank to rise no more.

"You rejoiced at war not long ago," said Lady Regina to Ketchen, assuming a calmness which she did not feel in her agitated heart.

"Oh, yes, at the handsome young knights; the feasts and music, but not at this!" exclaimed the crying Ketchen.

"The Scots retreat!" exclaimed another of the girls.

"Yes," replied the reflecting count, "but the Swedes have begun to cross the river in boats."

"The Scots are returning to the attack."

"Just as I imagined," said the count calmly.

"God preserve us! they have succeeded; they are now on this side. Our troops attack them."

"Lady Regina, do not expose yourself so much at the window. The Swedes may aim their cannon at the turret."

"Count, do you fear?" Regina smiled as she said this.

Lichtenstein coloured up.

"I have satisfied myself that I have courage enough," he answered. "Hearken, and you will every now and then distinguish a peculiar whizzing, and a rattling like the fall of stones; you do not know what this is. I will tell you. These are cannon-shot, Lady Regina; you would know this better if the noise outside was not so deafening. For some time the balls have been shattering the walls of the turret, and almost always at the same place. Fair cousin, these are no sugar-plums. The Swedes must have been taught to shoot by the Wild Huntsman."

"Do you really think----"

"That the enemy intend to destroy this turret, and will fill the castle moat with the debris? Yes, cousin, and I believe they will do it very soon. You are in danger here, every moment, and must go somewhere else."

"Immediately, good count, at once! Come, lady!" cried Ketchen, trying with friendly violence to take her young mistress away with her. But Regina was in an exalted mood. In the habit of ruling, and perhaps from the defiant nature of her character, full of strange contrasts, joined to the burning fanaticism which the Jesuit had implanted in her mind from childhood ... she stepped backwards, grasped the gilded image of the Virgin, which Father Hieronymus had sent to guard her, and placed it in front of herself on the window-sill.

"Go," she exclaimed; "you are weak in the faith; you doubt the protection of the holy saints. I shall remain, and the efforts of the heretics will avail nothing against----"

Lady Regina's speech was not finished, when a ball struck the turret at an oblique angle, knocking away a piece of the facing. A shower of stone fragments hurtled through the window, demolishing the image of the Holy Virgin, and enveloping Lady Regina in dust and dirt.

"You must away! Now you see for yourself!" cried the count.

"Let us go!" exclaimed all the girls nearly paralyzed with fear.

But Regina, nearly overwhelmed for a moment, recovered her self-confidence, and stooped down to pick up the image, saying with faith,

"They cannot triumph over the Holy Mother."

She was deceived. The wooden virgin had broken into several fragments. A sceptical smile played around the count's lips, and he now led without any opposition his terror-stricken relative from the turret.

While this was happening, Keller, with the quickness and perception of a thorough soldier, had made every arrangement for a vigorous defence. He was unable to stop the Swedes from crossing the river, but the nearer they came, the more destructive was the fire of his artillery. The enemy's ranks were decimated by his shot; and the whole day they could do nothing.

Father Hieronymus and his monks ran around the walls, deluging the guns with holy water, and making the sign of the cross over every touch-hole.

Old Dorthe had whispered in his ear, and the Jesuit's gaze was directed towards the place where someone had just seen the Swedish king and his companion. The worthy priest now wished to aim, himself, one of the heavy guns towards the spot; but before firing he fell on his knees and repeated four _pater nosters_ and _ave Marias_. Then followed the shot; but in vain did the anxious Jesuit look for the effect. Unhurt, as before, the forms of the two horsemen were seen through the vanishing smoke. The monk now thought that four _paters_ and four _aves_ were too little, and accordingly repeated eight of each sort, and then fired again. Disgusting! The balls would not touch the selected objects. Providence had not yet rung the death-knell of Gustaf Adolf, and Pehr Brahe it wished to spare for the sake of Finland. Who can estimate what would have succeeded Sweden's victories, and Finland's learning, if the Jesuit's shots had reached their mark?

Father Hieronymus fumed. Once more he resolved to try with twelve _paters_ and twelve _aves_, when someone touched him on the back; he turned round and saw an old soldier, who had been exchanged with Count Lichtenstein.

"Cease your efforts," said the veteran in a firm tone, "it is a needless waste of powder; you are trying to kill a man with a charmed life; he is invulnerable."

The superstitious Jesuit muttered something with a low breath.

"I should have divined as much. But how do you know this, my son?" he added.

"I was told of it in the Swedish camp. On the forefinger of his right hand the king wears a little copper ring, inscribed all over with magical signs. This was given to him in his youth by a Finnish witch, and as long as he wears this ring, neither fire, water, iron, or lead can injure him."

"Nothing affects him, you believe? Oh, _maledicti Fennones_, why do you follow me everywhere?"

"No iron or lead," whispered the veteran, "but I can tell you of something else."

"Say on, my son; you are absolved beforehand."

"But, good father, it is a sinful method."

"All means are justified for the benefit of our Holy Faith. Speak, my son."

"Gold from a holy image."

"Never, my son, no; we dare not do that. Had it been a dagger of glass, or an occult poison, it would do; but gold from a saint's image, no, my son, let us forget the unholy idea."

Meanwhile the cloak of night had descended, and death's work for the time was finished. The worn-out soldiers refreshed themselves with food and drink, and Keller passed around some fine liquors to sustain their courage.

Lady Regina had moved down to one of the inner apartments; Count Fritz had gone to bed. Soon all was silent, except the call of the sentinels, the songs of drunken soldiers, and the murmur of the feast which Keller gave to his officers in the armoury. But in the fine chapel, where stood the pure golden statues of Christ and the Virgin Mary, the midnight mass was over, and all the monks except one had gone to rest, or--the wine-cup. This lonely figure was still kneeling before the altar, and the perpetually burning lamp shed its dim rays over the praying pallid Jesuit.

"Holy Virgin," prayed he, "forgive thy humble servant for daring to take from thee a small piece of thy golden robe. Thou knowest, oh sanctissima, that it is for a holy and sacred end, in order to kill the sworn enemy of the holy church, the heretic king, whom the heathen Finns with their devilish arts have rendered invulnerable to the steel and lead of the true believers. Grant that the gold, which I, in thy honour, take from thy glorious mantle, may pierce the wicked heart of the godless king, and I promise thee, holy mother, to replace what thou hast lost by a costly robe of velvet and pearls. Three gilded candles will I cause to burn also, night and day, before thy image. Amen."

When Father Hieronymus had finished his devotions, he looked up, and it appeared to him as if the image in the light of the eternal lamp smiled its approval to the fanatical petition.