sober longer than their
worthy masters, if they would not be blackened with coals, and trodden
under foot by them and other drunken princely guests; the women of the
court had to jest with crowds of drunken men with rough manners, or to
have their nights' rest disturbed by the clashing of naked swords, or
by the cries of an excited multitude. It actually happened once at the
Imperial court, that there was no money in the chest for the purchase
of new shoes, and frequently the honest citizens declined to furnish
the court with the necessary supplies of bread and meat. Most of the
great courts led a wandering life, and on their journeys, bad inns,
worse roads, and scanty fare were by no means their greatest
discomforts: the roads were unsafe, and the reception at the end of the
journey was often doubtful.

The scenes we are about to portray are of a Hungarian court, but the
royal family and the narrator are German. It is the court of Queen
Elizabeth, daughter of the Emperor Sigismund, widow of Albrecht of
Austria, king of Hungary, who died in the year 1439. The German
Imperial race of Luxemburg was, after Charles IV., the least worthy of
renown of all who have ruled over central Europe, and the Emperor
Sigismund was one of the worst of his race. His daughter Elizabeth
suffered under the curse of her house: it was her fate to throw Hungary
into confusion and weakness; but as she must be judged from history, it
appears she was somewhat better than her father or her reprobate
mother: she had a feeling of her own dignity, and was, unlike her
parents, a person of distinguished manners. This did not hinder her
committing, for political purposes, unworthy actions, which every age
has stigmatized as mean; but she attached people to her by that
fascination of manner which often takes the place of better qualities.

It was thus that one of her attendants, Helen Kottenner, was devoted to
her with the most unshaken fidelity; she was bed-chamberwoman and
governess to the young princess, a child of four years old, and at the
same time she was confidante and counsellor of her mistress. Her ardent
loyalty and motherly love for the little king Ladislaus made her the
most zealous partisan of his family. She secretly stole for her
sovereign the Hungarian crown, and she carried the little Ladislaus
through the swamps of Hungary and the rebellious magnates to his
coronation, and became his instructress when fate separated him from
his mothe