The Sleepwalkers (203 page)

Wallenstein
could
not
care
less
what
Kepler
did.
The
arrangement
had
been
a
mutual
disappointment
from
the
beginning.
Unlike
the
aristocratic
dilettantes
who
had
patronized
Tycho,
Galileo
and
Kepler
himself
in
the
past,
General
Wallenstein
took
no
genuine
interest
in
science.
He
drew
a
certain
snob-satisfaction
from
having
a
man
of
European
renown
as
his
court
mathematicus,
but
what
he
really
wanted
from
Kepler
was
astrological
advice
regarding
the
political
and
military
decisions
he
had
to
take.
Kepler's
answers
to
such
concrete
questions
were
always
elusive
–
owing
to
his
honesty,
or
caution,
or
both.
Wallenstein
used
Kepler
mainly
to
obtain
exact
data
on
the
planetary
motions,
which
he
then
sent
on
to
his
more
willing
astrologers
–
like
the
notorious
Seni
–
as
a
basis
for
their
auguries.
Kepler
himself
rarely
spoke
about
his
personal
contacts
with
Wallenstein.
Though
he
once
calls
him
"a
second
Hercules",
¹⁵
his
feelings
were
more
honestly
reflected
in
one
of
his
last
letters:

"I
have
returned
recently
from
Gitschin
[Wallenstein's
residence],
where
my
patron
kept
me
in
attendance
for
three
weeks
–
it
meant
a
considerable
waste
of
time
for
both
of
us."
¹⁶

Three
months
later,
the
pressure
of
Wallenstein's
rivals
induced
the
Emperor
to
dismiss
his
Generalissimo.
It
was
only
a
temporary
set-back
in
Wallenstein's
dramatic
career,
but
Kepler
believed
that
it
was
the
end.
Once
again,
and
now
for
the
last
time,
he
took
to
the
roads.

In
October,
he
departed
from
Sagan.
He
left
his
family
behind,
but
took
with
him
cartloads
of
books
and
documents,
which
were
dispatched
ahead
to
Leipzig.
His
son-in-law
wrote
later
on:

"Kepler
left
Sagan
unexpectedly,
and
his
condition
was
such
that
his
widow,
his
children
and
friends
expected
to
see
the
Last
Judgment
sooner
than
his
return."
¹⁷

His
purpose
was
to
look
out
for
another
job,
and
to
try
to
obtain
some
of
the
money
owed
to
him
by
the
Emperor
and
by
the
Austrian
Estates.
In
his
self-analysis,
thirty-five
years
earlier,
he
had
written
that
his
constant
worrying
about
money
"was
not
prompted
by
the
desire
for
riches,
but
by
fear
of
poverty".
This
was
still
essentially
true.
He
had
money-deposits
in
various
places,
but
he
was
unable
to
recover
even
the
interests
due
to
him.
When
he
set
out
on
that
last
journey
across
half
of
war-torn
Europe,
he
took
all
the
cash
he
had
with
him,
leaving
Susanna
and
the
children
penniless.
Even
so
he
had
to
borrow
fifty
florins
from
a
merchant
in
Leipzig,
where
he
stopped
on
the
first
lap
of
his
journey.

He
seems
to
have
had
one
of
his
curious
premonitions.
All
his
life
he
had
been
in
the
habit
of
casting
horoscopes
for
his
birthdays.
The
horoscopes
for
the
years
preceding
and
following
his
sixtieth
show
merely
the
positions
of
the
planets,
without
comment.
The
sixtieth,
his
last,
is
an
exception;
he
noted
on
it
that
the
positions
of
the
planets
were
almost
the
same
as
at
his
birth.
His
last
letter
is
dated
from
Leipzig,
31
October,
and
addressed
to
friend
Bernegger
in
Strasburg.
He
had
remembered
Bernegger's
earlier
invitation,
and
suddenly
decided
to
accept
it;
but
he
seems
to
have
forgotten
it
again
a
moment
later,
for
in
the
remainder
of
the
letter
he
talks
of
his
travelling
plans
without
any
reference
to
it:

"Your
hospitality
I
gladly
accept.
May
God
preserve
you,
and
take
pity
on
the
misery
of
my
country.
In
the
present
general
insecurity
one
ought
not
to
refuse
any
offer
of
shelter,
however
distant
its
location...
Farewell
to
you,
your
wife
and
children.
Hold
fast,
with
me,
to
our
only
anchor,
the
Church,
pray
to
God
for
it
and
for
me."
¹⁸

From
Leipzig
he
rode
on,
on
a
miserable
old
horse
to
Nuernberg,
where
he
visited
a
printer.
Then
on
to
Ratisbon,
where
the
Diet
was
sitting,
in
full
pomp,
presided
over
by
the
Emperor
who
owed
him
twelve
thousand
florins.