.
L. UHLAND.

Duke Ulerich of Wuertemberg was fond of a good table, and when the glass
circulated freely in good society, he was not the first to give the
signal to break up. At the wedding feast of Bertha von Lichtenstein he
remained true to his habits. When the ceremony was finished in the
church, the procession returned to the castle much in the same form as
it entered, except that the bride and bridegroom walked hand in hand.
The company then separated, and wandered about the pleasure-garden of
the castle, where they amused themselves among the shrubberies and
artificial walks, some looking at the deer and roebucks in the
inclosures, others admiring the bears in the dry ditches. At twelve
o'clock the trumpets sounded to dinner, which was held in the
tournament-hall, a place large enough to entertain many hundred people.
This hall was the pride and ornament of Stuttgardt. It was full an
hundred paces long; one side of it, looking to the garden, was occupied
by numerous large windows, through which the cheerful rays of the sun,
piercing the many-coloured glass, illumined this immense apartment,
which, by its vaulted roof and numerous pillars, resembled more the
interior of a church than a place for festive joy. Galleries extended
round the three other sides, hung with rich tapestry, a space being
appropriated to the musicians and trumpeters, whilst spectators,
assembled to witness the princely feast, occupied the remainder. On
other occasions, such as when a tournament took place, these galleries
were set apart for the ladies and judges; when, instead of the clang of
drinking utensils, the hall resounded with the applauses of the
spectators, the heavy blows of swords, the cracking of lances, the
whizzing of spears, amidst the laughter and cries of the combatants.

On this day a display of beautiful women and gallant men of all classes
had been invited to celebrate the nuptials of the Duke's friend and
favourite. They were seated around tables which groaned under loads of
good cheer. The fiddlers in the galleries flourished their fiddlesticks
merrily; the cheeks of the trumpeters were swelled to the fullest
stretch; the drummers' sticks beat heavily on their skins; and the
spectators who were admitted in the other part of the galleries, joined
chorus with shouting and hallooing when the company drank a toast. At
the upper end of the room sat the Duke upon a throne, under a