eking the approval of the
princes. His general, Wallenstein, was given one of the conquered states
as his dukedom; and Wallenstein declared openly that his master had no
further need of councils; the time had come for Germany to be governed
as were France and Spain.

The Catholic princes, with Maximilian of Bavaria at their head, became
frightened by the giant they themselves had created, and began to take
measures for their own preservation. They demanded that Wallenstein be
removed from his command. The Emperor, perhaps himself afraid of his too
powerful general, finally consented.

There still remained, however, the serious question whether Wallenstein
would accept his dismissal. His huge and ever-growing army was
absolutely under his control. His influence over the troops was
extraordinary. A firm believer in astrology, he asserted that the stars
promised him certain success, and his followers believed him. Tall and
thin, dark and solemn, silent and grim, wearing a scarlet cloak and a
long, blood-red feather in his hat, he was declared by popular
superstition to be in league with the devil, invulnerable and
unconquerable. No evil act of his soldiery did he ever rebuke. Only two
things he demanded of them--absolute obedience and unshaken daring. The
man who flinched or disobeyed was executed on the instant. Otherwise the
marauders might desecrate God's earth with whatsoever hideous crimes
they would. His troops laughed at the idea of being Catholics or
Protestants, Germans or Bohemians; they were "Wallensteiners" and
nothing else.

Even Ferdinand would scarcely have dared oppose his overgrown servant
had not Wallenstein failed in an attempt to capture Stralsund. This
little Baltic seaport held out against the assaults of his entire army.
Wallenstein vowed that he would capture it "though it were fastened by
chains to heaven." But each mad attack of his wild troopers was beaten
back from the walls by the desperate townsfolk; and at last, with twelve
thousand of his men dead, he retreated from before the stubborn port. A
superstitious load was lifted from the minds even of those who pretended
to be his friends. Wallenstein was not unconquerable.

He accepted the Emperor's notice of removal with haughty disdain. He
said he had already seen it in the stars that evil men had sowed
dissension between him and his sovereign, but the end was not yet. He
retired to his vast estates in Bohemia, and lived at Prague with a
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