The chancellor of Ingolstadt had hastened back to Saxony, which, as having been the scene of battle, he was desirous should also be the scene of his victory. Having arrived he published the bull at Meissen, Merseburg, and Brandenburg towards the end of September. But in the first of these towns it was posted up in a place where nobody could read it; and the bishops of those three sees were in no haste to publish it. Even Duke George, Eck's great patron, prohibited the Council of Leipsic from making it public, before receiving orders from the Bishop of Merseburg, and these orders did not arrive till the following year. "These are only difficulties of form," said John Eck to himself at first, for every thing else seemed to smile upon him. Duke George sent him a golden cup and some ducats. Even Miltitz, who had hastened to Leipsic, on learning that his rival had arrived, invited him to dinner. The two legates were boon companions; and Miltitz thought he could not have a better opportunity of sounding Eck than over their wine. "After he had drunk pretty freely, he began," says the pope's chamberlain, "to boast in grand style--he displayed his bull, and told how he meant to bring that droll fellow Martin to his senses."[272] But the Ingolstadt doctor soon had occasion to observe that the wind was veering. The course of a year had produced a great change in Leipsic.[273] On St. Michael's day some students posted up placards, in ten different places, containing a severe attack on the new nuncio, who, in amazement, took refuge in the cloister of St. Paul, where Tetzel had previously found his asylum, and declining every visit, induced the rector to call his youthful opponents to account. By this poor Eck gained little. The students composed a song upon him, and sang it in the streets. Eck must have heard it in his prison. On this all his courage failed him, and the redoubtable champion trembled in every limb. Every day brought him threatening letters. One hundred and fifty students, who had arrived from Wittemberg, spoke out boldly against the papal envoy. For once the poor apostolical nuncio could hold out no longer. "I would not have them kill him," said Luther, "though I wish his designs to fail."[274] Eck, quitting his retreat at night, clandestinely escaped from Leipsic to go and hide himself at Coburg. Miltitz, who gives the account, triumphed more than the Reformer. His triumph, however, was not of long duration. All the chamberlain's projects of conciliation failed, and he came at last to a miserable end. One day, when drunk, he fell into the Rhine at Mentz, and was drowned. [272] Nachdem (writes Miltitz) er nun tapfer getrunken hatte, fleng er gleich an trefflich von seiner ordre zu prahlen, etc. (Seckend., p. 238.) [273] Longe aliam faciem et mentem Lipsiæ eum invenire quam sperasset .... (L. Ep. i, p. 492.). [274] Nollem eum occidi, quanquam optem ejus consilia irrita fieri. (Ibid.)