The sixteenth of February, 1620, was an important day for Prussia, for between three and four o’clock on the afternoon of that day, a son was born to the Electoress, Frederick William, the future “Great Elector.” It is remarkable that the heir who fought so many battles should have been disturbed even in his cradle by warlike tumult. Upon the evening of the twentieth of May the nurse and chambermaid were together in the Prince’s apartment which the Electoress had left to get some rest. The child was sleeping quietly in his handsomely decorated cradle. The two watched him a little while with pleasure, then seated themselves at a table upon which a wax light burned behind a screen, and began to spin. When they were fairly at work, the nurse said: “Our Princess little recks of the evil doings which are endangering our peace.” “The Princess was anxious enough,” replied the chambermaid, “when she saw the people collecting in crowds in the streets, but the castellan has reassured her.” “What were the people excited about?” “They were alarmed because two thousand Englishmen, sent by King James, arrived yesterday at Potsdam.” “Will they enter Berlin?” “God forbid! They are going in a few days still farther, to Bohemia. They are auxiliaries sent to the Elector of the Palatinate who has been crowned at Prague. But our people were apprehensive that they had come here because of the uprising six years ago. They have a guilty conscience.” “Uprising? here in Berlin?” “Nurse, how little you know about things. I will explain. The blessed Elector about that time went over from the Lutheran to the Reformed Church. The people of Cöln[2] and Berlin were greatly incensed. They are nearly all Lutherans, and there was a great uproar. The governor, Margrave Johann George, had to clear the streets to silence the tumult, and was severely injured by a stone thrown at him. The crowd then attacked and demolished the house of Füssell, the Reformed preacher.” Extreme surprise was visible upon the nurse’s countenance. “Have such things happened here?” said she. “Yes. They have happened here,” replied the maid; “and worse yet, they happened without investigation or punishment. The Lutherans are in the ascendant and they are making the lives of Reformers wretched to-day in the city and country. Perhaps now you understand what I meant when I said ‘the people have a guilty conscience.’” “Yes; now I understand. The people are afraid that these two thousand Englishmen are going to occupy the city.” “Yes, and would that it were true. It would serve the people right. They would quickly settle matters. But I know it will not happen. Our Elector is much too gentle to adopt harsh measures.” Hardly were these words uttered, when they heard a great noise in the vicinity of St. George’s, now King street. “What is that!” exclaimed the frightened nurse, rushing to the door.