Memorials and Other Papers, vol 2 | Page 5

point, a mounted courier now sprung into the square
at full gallop on his road to the palace, and was suddenly pulled up by
the dense masses of human beings.
"News, news!" exclaimed Maximilian; "tidings of our dear friends from
Vienna! "This he said with the generous purpose of diverting the
infuriated mob from the unfortunate Von Aremberg, though himself
apprehending that the courier had arrived from another quarter. His
plan succeeded: the mob rushed after the horseman, all but two or three
of the most sanguinary, who, being now separated from all assistance,
were easily drawn off from their prey. The opportunity was eagerly
used to carry off the colonel, stunned and bleeding, within the gates of
a Franciscan convent. He was consigned to the medical care of the holy
fathers; and Maximilian, with his companions, then hurried away to the
chancery of the palace, whither the courier had proceeded with his
despatches.
These were interesting in the highest degree. It had been doubted by
many, and by others a pretended doubt had been raised to serve the
Landgrave's purpose, whether the great cavalcade from Vienna would
be likely to reach the entrance of the forest for a week or more. Certain
news had now arrived, and was published before it could be stifled, that

they and all their baggage, after a prosperous journey so far, would be
assembled at that point on this very evening. The courier had left the
advanced guard about noonday, with an escort of four hundred of the
Black Yagers from the Imperial Guard, and two hundred of
Papenheim's Dragoons, at Waldenhausen, on the very brink of the
forest. The main body and rear were expected to reach the same point
in four or five hours; and the whole party would then fortify their
encampment as much as possible against the night attack which they
had too much reason to apprehend.
This was news which, in bringing a respite of forty-eight hours,
brought relief to some who had feared that even this very night might
present them with the spectacle of their beloved friends engaged in a
bloody struggle at the very gates of Klosterheim; for it was the fixed
resolution of the Landgrave to suffer no diminution of his own military
strength, or of the means for recruiting it hereafter. Men, horses, arms,
all alike were rigorously laid under embargo by the existing
government of the city; and such was the military power at its disposal,
reckoning not merely the numerical strength in troops, but also the
power of sweeping the main streets of the town, and several of the
principal roads outside, that it was become a matter of serious doubt
whether the unanimous insurrection of the populace had a chance for
making head against the government. But others found not even a
momentary comfort in this account. They considered that, perhaps,
Waldenhausen might be the very ground selected for the murderous
attack. There was here a solitary post-house, but no town, or even
village. The forest at this point was just thirty-four miles broad; and if
the bloodiest butchery should be going on under cover of night, no
rumor of it could be borne across the forest in time to alarm the many
anxious friends who would this night be lying awake in Klosterheim.
A slight circumstance served to barb and point the public distress,
which otherwise seemed previously to have reached its utmost height.
The courier had brought a large budget of letters to private individuals
throughout Klosterheim; many of these were written by children
unacquainted with the dreadful catastrophe which threatened them.
Most of them had been long separated, by the fury of the war, from

their parents. They had assembled, from many different quarters, at
Vienna, in order to join what might be called, in Oriental phrase, the
caravan. Their parents had also, in many instances, from places equally
dispersed, assembled at Klosterheim; and, after great revolutions of
fortune, they were now going once more to rejoin each other. Their
letters expressed the feelings of hope and affectionate pleasure suitable
to the occasion. They retraced the perils they had passed during the
twenty-six days of their journey,--the great towns, heaths, and forests,
they had traversed since leaving the gates of Vienna; and expressed, in
the innocent terms of childhood, the pleasure they felt in having come
within two stages of the gates of Klosterheim. "In the forest," said they,
"there will be no more dangers to pass; no soldiers; nothing worse than
wild deer."
Letters written in these terms, contrasted with the mournful realities of
the case, sharpened the anguish of fear and suspense throughout the
whole city; and Maximilian with his friends, unable to bear the loud
expression of the public feelings, separated themselves from the
tumultuous crowds, and