Excepting Reinwald and the villagers Schiller saw at first but little of
his fellow-mortals. Both on his own account and for the sake of Frau von
Wolzogen he wished that the persons who saw him should not know who he
was. So he continued to scatter false reports with a liberal hand: he
had gone to Hannover, was going to London, to America, and so forth. In
the mean time, with no thought of leaving his nest at Bauerbach, he
devoted himself to his work. For the first time in his life he was the
master of his own movements; he had a chance to collect himself, to
browse among his books, to meditate and to dream. And as for mankind in
general, he felt that he had no cause to love it. 'With the warmest
feeling ', so he wrote after a time, when the first bitterness had
passed away, 'I had embraced half the world and found at last that I had
in my arms a cold lump of ice.'[49] Withal the demands of work were
imperious. He had risked everything upon his chances of literary success
and it was necessary to win. He had broken for good and all with the
Duke of Wuerttemberg and there was nothing to be hoped for in that
quarter. At the same time,--and the fact is characteristic of his
large-mindedness,--he resolved not to air his personal grievance. To
Frau von Wolzogen, who had been admonishing him never to forget his debt
to the Stuttgart Academy, he wrote: 'However it may be with regard to
that, you have my word that I will never belittle the Duke of
Wuerttemberg.'

Toward the end of December the wintry dullness of his Bauerbach cottage
was brightened by the arrival of its owner and her daughter. Lotte von
Wolzogen was a blond school-girl who had not yet passed her seventeenth
birthday. The records do not credit her with exceptional beauty, but she
was sufficiently good-looking and her demure girlish innocence appeared
to Schiller very lovable. Not that his plight was at all desperate; he
hardly knew his own mind and was in no position to make love to any