Showing the Ingratitude, Foolishness and Wickedness of the People, and
how, when once infected with a bad Spirit, it returns with Difficulty
to Common-Sense--Smiterlow, Lorbeer and the Duke of Mecklenburg--Fall
of the seditious Regime of the Forty-Eight
The ecclesiastical affairs of Stralsund had assumed more or less
regular conditions; the Gospel was preached in all the churches without
opposition either on the part of the princes or of the council.
Smiterlow had sanctioned the return of Rolof Moller. Nevertheless,
peace was not maintained for long, Lubeck, Rostock, Stralsund and
Wismar having revolted against their magistrates. In fact, at the death
of King Frederick of Denmark, George Wullenweber,[21] burgomaster of
Lubeck, having for his acolyte Marx Meyer, decided to declare war upon
Duke Christian of Holstein.
According to Wullenweber, the conquest of Denmark was a certainty; and
inasmuch as the magistrates of Lubeck, belonging to the old families,
looked with apprehension on the enterprise, they were deposed and sixty
burghers added to their successors.
Marx Meyer was a working blacksmith with a handsome face and figure.
Being a skilful farrier he had accompanied the cavalry in several
campaigns, and his conduct both with regard to his comrades and the
enemy had been such as to gain for him the highest grades. He was
created a Knight in England and amassed a considerable fortune. His
rise in the world filled him, however, with inordinate pride and
vanity. Nothing in the way of sumptuous garments and golden ornaments
seemed good enough to emphasize his knightly dignity. He had a crowd of
retainers and a stable full of horses, for like the majority of folk of
low birth, he knew of no bounds in his prosperity. Odd to relate, he
was courted by people of good condition; women both young, rich and
well-born fell in love with this, and it would appear that he gave them
no cause to regret their infatuation. I have read a letter written to
him by one of the foremost ladies of quality of Hamburg: "My dear Marx,
after having visited all the chapels, you might for once in a way come
to the cathedral." May his death be accounted as an instance of
everlasting justice.
In June 1534 the councillors of the Wendish cities,[22] apprehending a
disaster and being moreover exceedingly grieved at this struggle
against the excellent Duke of Holstein, foregathered at Hamburg to
consider the state of affairs. Wullenweber, however, presumptuous as
was his wont, became more obstinate than ever and rejected with scorn
most acceptable terms of peace. Hence, the Stralsund delegate,
Burgomaster Nicholas Smiterlow, addressed the following prophetic words
to him: "I have been present at many negotiations, but never have I
seen matters treated like this, Signor George. You will knock your head
against the wall and you shall fall on your beam end." After that
apostrophe, Wullenweber, furious with anger, left the council-chamber,
made straight for his inn, had his and Meyer's horses saddled and both
took the way back to Lubeck, where immediately after his arrival
Wullenweber summoned his undignified council and the aforementioned
sixty burghers, who between them decree in the twinkling of an eye a
levy of troops; dispatching meanwhile to the council of Stralsund a
blatant sedition-monger, Johannes Holm, with verbal instructions and a
missive couched substantially as follows: "Wullenweber is zealously
working to bring principalities and kingdoms under the authority of the
cities, but the opposition of Burgomaster Smiterlow has driven him from
the diet. In spite of this, the struggle is bound to continue, so it
lays with you to act."
Nothing more than that was wanted to stir the whole of the citizens
against Smiterlow. The Forty-Eight came to tender their condolence to
Burgomaster Lorbeer who was secretly jealous of his colleague.
Pretending to be greatly concerned, he exclaimed: "This is too much,
impossible to defend him any longer." His hearers took it for granted
that Smiterlow was left to their discretion, while, according to
Lorbeer himself, the ambiguous words merely signified: "Smiterlow has
so many enemies that I can no longer come to his aid."
At Smiterlow's return, the fire so skilfully fed by Lorbeer broke into
flame. People hailed each other with the cry, "Nicholas the Pacific is
here." The delegate had to deliver an account of his mission to the
burghers summoned to that effect at six in the morning, at the Town
Hall, with the city-gates closed and the cannon taken out of the
arsenal and placed in position in the Old Markets The crowd poured into
the streets, and at the Town Hall itself people were crushing the life
out of each other. When Nicholas Smiterlow came to his statement that
he had opposed Wullenweber's warlike motions, there was a hurricane of
cries, curses and insults; it sounded as if they had all gone stark mad
at once. It was proposed to fling the speaker out of the window; an axe
was flung at the Councillors' bench and in endeavouring to intercept
the weapon the worshipful Master Kasskow was severely wounded. One
individual placed himself straight in front of the burgomaster. "You
scum of the earth," he yelled; "did you not unjustly fine me twenty
florins? Now it is my turn." "What's your name?" asked Smiterlow.
"That's right," he said on its being given; "it was a piece of
injustice, he ought to have had the gallows. I was sheriff at the time
and the council instructed me to fine you twenty florins. My register
of fines can show you that I did not keep them for myself, but spent
them for the good of the city." His interlocutor wished to hear no more
and disappeared in the crowd.
It should also be noted that the beggars who generally hung about the
burgomaster's dwelling were all the while vociferating under the
windows of the Town Hall. "Fling Nicholas the Pacific down to us," they
shouted; "we'll cut him up and play ball with the pieces." One of the
Forty-Eight having asked, "What do you think of it, my worthy
burghers?" the rabble yelled, "Yes, yes," without the faintest idea of
the nature of the question. Somebody thereupon observed, "Why are you
shouting 'Yes'? Are you willing to hand over the public chest?"
Thereupon there was an equally unanimous and stentorian "No."
Unquestionably the devil had occasion on that day to laugh at the
people in his sleeve.
This martyring of the first burgomaster, an eminent, virtuous man, who
had, moreover, attained a certain age, was prolonged till seven o'clock
at night. Finally, he received the order not to leave his quarters.
Similar injunctions were inflicted on my father in his capacity of
nephew by marriage to the burgomaster, and to Joachim Rantzow for
having exclaimed, "Gently, gently; at least give people a chance to
explain themselves."
The soldiers and sailors were enjoined at the sound of the drum to man
the galleys, and a strict watch was kept. At night a strong squad
encamped in front of Smiterlow's dwelling; the soldiers, among other
pastimes, amused themselves with firing at the front door; the bullets
passed out at the other side of the passage through a circular glazed
aperture. There were many hours of anguish for the burgomaster, his
wife and children, who expected at every moment to have their home
invaded by the mob.
On the Monday of St. John they elected two burgomasters, namely,
Joachim Pruetze, the erewhile town clerk, an honest and sensible man,
and Johannes Klocke, the actual town clerk and syndicus. Seven burghers
were elected councillors; with the exception of Secretary Johannes
Senckestack, who had had no hand in the thing, they were all honest,
uninteresting folk, as simple-minded as they were upright and virtuous.
Johannes Tamme, for instance, a worthy and straightforward man, replied
to the artizans and others who came to complain of the bad state of
business: "Make your mind easy; it will change now that seven capable
people form part of the council." Antique simplicity indeed. Nicholas
Baremann boasted of earning ten marks each time he left his home. One
day he went into the cellar to look at a barrel of salt-fish, he was
accompanied by a servant who was not altogether right in his head. In
those days men wore round their necks a very narrow collar of pleated
tulle. While the master was bending over the fish, the servant with one
blow of his hatchet clean cut his head off. Instead of taking flight he
quietly went back to his work. When interrogated about the motive of
his crime, he replied that his master presented his neck so gently as
to make the operation merely child's play. In spite of his
unquestionable mental state, the murderer was broken alive on the
wheel.
My father was practically imprisoned for fifteen months in his own
house, whence resulted an enormous loss to his own business, for in
view of the coming herring-fair at Falsterbo, in the province of
Schonen,[23] his cellar and hall were packed with Luneburg salt; there
was also a considerable quantity of dried cod, besides a big assortment
of cloth, and amidst all this he was forbidden to cross the threshold
of his house and no one was allowed to come and see him. My mother was,
moreover, pregnant at the time, and as the date of her confinement drew
near my father asked for leave to take up his quarters with a neighbour
until it was over. His petition was refused, and at the critical moment
he found himself compelled to get into the adjoining house by the roof.
He was also prevented from personally inviting the godparents.
George Wullenweber and his undisciplined followers opened the
hostilities by sea and by land. In this bitter struggle the Duke of
Holstein preserved the advantage, though he fought as one against two,
but the Almighty was on his side. Humiliated by these reverses, with
their prestige diminished and threatened with an ignominious fall, the
fribbling authors of the war expected to save everything by
substituting another chief for Wullenweber. After a week of
negotiations the emissaries of Lubeck, Rostock, and Stralsund assembled
at Wismar offered to Duke Albrecht of Mecklenburg the throne of
Denmark. The act, drawn up in due form and signed and sealed by Lubeck,
Rostock and Wismar was dispatched to Stralsund, the signature and seal
of which was wanting to it. The fine phrases of the Lubeckian message
got the better of the opposition of the council; the Forty-Eight broke
open the casket containing the great seal, affixed it to the document
and sent it back to Wismar.
Every rule had been strictly observed; the Duke of Mecklenburg invited
the representatives of the cities for the next day to a banquet, at
which the act was to be handed to him. But during the morning itself
the delegates of Stralsund, under the pretext of wishing to examine the
parchment, asked to look at it, and Christopher Lorbeer, borrowing a
pocket-knife of his colleague, Franz Wessel, cut the strings of the
Stralsund seal, after which they made off as far as their carriage
would let them. They were half-way to Rostock while the other
ambassadors were still waiting for them with dinner. Undeterred by
this, Albrecht, accompanied by his wife, her ladies, servants, horses
and dogs, took the road to Copenhagen, like a legitimate sovereign.
Lorbeer himself, his children, and the rest of his relations have
sung in all manner of keys the resolute--others would say, the
audacious--conduct he displayed on that occasion; nobody, whether
townsman, rustic or alien was to remain ignorant of the feat; and to
this day people keep repeating that Burgomaster Lorbeer, scorning all
danger (_non enim sine periculo facinus magnum et memorabile_), made
himself illustrious by this signal act, by this heroic exploit. If,
however, we turn the leaf, what do we read? _Qui periculum amat peribit
in eo_; real courage will never be confounded with reckless audacity.
That the act was provided with the great seal of Stralsund is a fact
known to the representatives of Lubeck, Rostock and Wismar, who
handled the document on the strength of which, when ratified by the
Forty-Eight, Duke Albrecht went and shut himself up in Copenhagen,
where he sustained a siege, and practically obliged Stralsund to make
the same sacrifices for him the other cities had made. Consequently,
one has the right to ask: "Where was the advantage of detaching the
seal?" If Lorbeer had utilized his energy in keeping in port vessels,
soldiers and ammunition, then he would have rendered a signal service,
and, besides, prevented the waste of much money. Do Lorbeer's admirers
imagine that Duke Albrecht would not have avenged the outrage when once
his throne was consolidated? The least he would have done was to close
the Sound against us, and to hamper our commerce everywhere. Verily
they are right, the citizens who keep on praising the mad trick of
Lorbeer.
Burgomaster Smiterlow bore his enforced retirement with admirable
patience. Instead of meddling with public affairs, he assiduously read
the Holy Scriptures, and spent most of his time in prayer. He finally
knew by heart the Psalms of David. As a daily visitor to his home, I
can say that no bitter word ever fell from his lips. He often repeated,
"They are my fellow-citizens; the Lord will move their spirit. It is my
duty to suffer for the love of my children."
Our gracious prince, Duke Philip, sent to request the liberation of the
burgomaster. The envoys were told that the answer would be sent to them
to the hostel. The discussion was a very long one, after which they
deputed the very host of the envoys, Hermann Meier, together with
Nicholas Rode, the one as illiterate as the other, and both densely
ignorant on every subject. Hermann Meier, who was a native of Parow,
had amassed much property in cash, in land, and in houses. Being the
owner of the two villages of Parow, he had practically for his vassals
his uncles and his cousins, whom he ruled at his will. Nicholas Rode
was a well-to-do merchant, but who had never associated with people of
condition. Hermann Meier had undertaken to address the envoys, but he
began to stumble at the first sentence, and finally, stricken dumb
altogether, he left his colleague behind, rushed from the room, and
went helter-skelter down the stairs. When he reached the yard, he fell
altogether ill with excitement. Nevertheless, he plucked up his courage
and went back--to apologize, as one would suppose. Not at all. Scorning
all exordium, and without even giving the envoys their titles, he went
straight to the point. "The council and the Forty-Eight," he said,
"have decided in the name of the citizens that we should signify to you
as follows: Inasmuch as they did not consult the prince to inflict the
confinement, they shall not consult him to annul it." Verily, a speech
worthy of the orator and of those who sent him, _similes habent labra
lactucas_. I wonder what would happen if somebody took it into his head
to-day to address a prince in that manner. Considering that all the
magistrates of that period were of most mediocre capacity (I am using a
mild term), two suppositions are admissible. It was either the
intention of the Forty-Eight to make the young duke ridiculous by
choosing such delegates, or the three or four intelligent members of
the council declined this foolish mission.
The embassy had, however, one result. My father was summoned to the
Town Hall, where he was told that he could recover his freedom in
consideration of a fine of a hundred marks. He wished to know what
fault he had committed, and was told not to "argufy." "Hundred marks or
the collar. You can take your choice." As a matter of course my father
chose the former, although the only crime that could be imputed to him
was his marriage with the niece of Burgomaster Smiterlow. The same mode
of procedure was applied to the case of Joachim Rantzow, an honest and
honoured citizen, who subsequently became a member of the council.
Shortly after this Councillors Nicholas Rode and Nicholas Bolte came to
enjoin Burgomaster Smiterlow, in conjunction with two of his relatives,
to sign a document already engrossed and provided with the wax for
three seals. According to them it was the only means to end his
captivity and to avoid all further and even more serious dangers. In
this piece of writing Burgomaster Smiterlow confessed to having been a
traitor to the city, a perjurer, guilty of the most infamous conduct,
and to have forfeited all his rights. The two councillors made it their
special business to paint the situation in the most sombre colours.
Terror-stricken and dissolved in tears, the burgomaster's wife implored
her husband to accede to the request of these two fanatics until the
Lord Himself could come to his aid. Unmanned by all this, Smiterlow
asked my father to seal the act with him. "No," exclaimed the latter,
"I shall not sign your dishonour." But his two sons-in-law, overcome by
the tears of their mother-in-law, affixed their seals. Thereupon the
burgomaster, escorted by the two councillors, his two sons-in-law and
my father, repaired to the Town Hall. On their way, he went into the
St. Nicholas' Church, knelt down in the stall near the great St.
Christopher, and said a short prayer.
The council of the Forty-Eight was holding its meeting in the summer
council-room. Requested by Christopher Lorbeer to resume his usual
seat, Smiterlow refused. "I cannot do so," he said, "after the document
I have just signed." Nevertheless, they insisted until he took his
seat. Then he addressed them, reminding them that he had travelled in
the city's service a hundred and odd days (I have forgotten the exact
number, for I was only sixteen years old). "If it can be proved that I
have spent one florin unnecessarily, been guilty of one neglect or
caused a single prejudice, I am ready to yield all I possess and my
life besides. If, on the other hand, I can show my innocence, then can
I count upon the same protection as that enjoyed by the other citizens;
that is, frequent the churches, cross the bridges, appear in the market
place, and attend to my business in all freedom and security." The
reply being affirmative, he rose from his seat, wished the council a
peaceful term of administration, and, followed by his nearest
relatives, went back to his home.
The situation remained the same until 1537. Strong in the consciousness
of his own honesty, and leaving the Forty-Eight to govern at their
own sweet will, Smiterlow remained perfectly tranquil in his
retirement. He was an assiduous churchgoer, and when the weather was
fine, took excursions into the country accompanied by his daughters,
his sons-in-law, my parents and their family. His jovial disposition
delighted them all.
On the other hand, the Forty-Eight were constantly assailed by fear.
The success of the war became more and more doubtful, in spite of the
sacrifice of hundreds of lives, in spite of the pillaging of the Town
Hall, in spite of the enormous sums wasted--thrown into the water, it
would be more correct to say. They converted the bells of the city and
of the villages into money; all these took the road to Lubeck, where,
to our disgrace be it said, the mark of Stralsund can still be seen on
a bronze pile-driver. Twice did the citizens, from the highest to the
lowest, pay the tax of the hundredth halfpenny on the strength of their
oath.
When they saw their power tottering, the Forty-Eight imitated the
unjust steward of St. Luke, and compelled the community to confirm,
renew and extend the infamous declaration violently dragged from the
council of 1522. The new act had apparently some good in it. It
enjoined upon the magistrates judicious rules of conduct which,
however, were not at all within their competence. In reality, the
ancient council acknowledged to have incurred by its resistance a fine
which was remitted to them by their magnanimous successors. It took the
engagement to favour the cause of the Forty-Eight. No dissension,
misunderstanding, accusation or recrimination, whether relating to the
past or the present, would in future be tolerated. Any contravention to
that effect entailed upon the councillors the loss of their dignities;
upon other citizens, the loss of their civic rights; upon women and
children, a fine of fifty florins, payable by the father or husband,
and going to the fund for public buildings.
That much was decided on the Friday after Candlemas, 1535.
Nevertheless, the Forty-Eight kept trembling in their shoes. The very
next year witnessed the promulgation of another decree, threatening
with the utmost bodily penalty any and every one, young or old, rich or
poor, magistrate or simple burgher who should decline the
responsibility of the expedition to Denmark, or should influence others
on the subject. This act was transcribed sequentially to that of 1535,
with the formula: Given under our administration anno and day as above.
Hence it was antedated. It was a clumsy trick, for a unique act does
not admit of a codicil. But does the ass ever succeed in hiding its
ears?
In 1536, on the day of _Esto Mihi_, Duke Philip married, at the Castle
of Torgau, Fraeulein Marie, sister of the Duke of Saxony, Johannes
Friedrich. The marriage rites were performed by Dr. Martin Luther, who
after the ceremony said to the husband: "Gracious prince and lord,
Should the event so much desired be somewhat tardy in coming, let not
your Highness be discouraged. _Saxum_ means stone, and nothing can be
drawn from a rock without time or patience. Your Highness shall be
included in my prayers: _semen tuum non deficit_." The duchess, in
fact, gave birth to her first child only about four years later.
The punishment of the wicked and the triumph of the just marched
abreast, _inclusio unius est exclusio alterius et e contra_. Amidst the
torments of hell the damned watch the bliss of the happy ones whom they
have persecuted on earth. I am bound to insist upon this antithesis
while pursuing my narrative. I expect no thanks, for men are so
thin-skinned as to cause them to quiver at the slightest touch; and
that is the reason why all those who have written on Stralsund, such as
Thomas Kantzow, Valentin Eichstedt,[24] and Johannes Berckmann passed
their pens to their successors when they got as far as 1536. I have no
desire to flatter or to find fault, but I intend to speak the real
truth, however disagreeable it may turn out to be. My sole concern is
to preserve the dignity of history. If people will take the trouble to
read carefully the authors just named, and especially Berckmann,
otherwise the Augustine monk, his impertinent libels will enable them
to appreciate the usefulness of the present pages. The approval of
honest folk is the only reward I care for; the rest is of no
consequence.
It is almost incredible that the Duke of Mecklenburg should have
committed the blunder of yielding to the suggestions of Wullenweber,
whom all good citizens virtually disavowed. Never was there a more
unjust war. In disposing of a country which, on no assumption whatever,
could possibly belong to them, the cities caused an incalculable
prejudice to the Duke of Holstein, the Lord's anointed, the legitimate,
well-beloved, and expected sovereign. He showed great firmness. The
leader of a powerful army, and master of its communications by sea and
by land, he was fully aware of his superiority to an adversary who,
shut up in Copenhagen, only thought of pleasure, hunts and banquets. In
spite of his just resentment, magnanimous Christian obtained a victory
over himself, and while the surrender of the city was being negotiated,
he sent provisions to the Duchess of Mecklenburg, at that time in
childbed. This was tantamount to giving her charity. After the retreat
of Duke Albrecht, Charles made a triumphal entry into Copenhagen, where
he was crowned in 1537, and the presence at the pomp and ceremony of
the coronation of the ambassadors of the cities was calculated to give
him complete satisfaction. As for the Duke of Mecklenburg, he had
learned to his cost the folly of disregarding the words of the Holy
Spirit: "My son, fear thou the Lord and the king, and meddle not with
them that are given to change: for their calamity shall rise suddenly;
and who knoweth the ruin of them both?" (Proverbs xxiv. 21, 22).
At Lubeck the pitiful collapse of the council brought about the
reinstatement of the old magistracy. In a spirit of pacification they
gave Wullenweber the captaincy of Bergendorf; but Wullenweber, while
crossing the territory of the Abbey of Werden, was seized by order of
Christopher, bishop of Bremen, who handed him over to his brother, Duke
Heindrich of Brunswick. After a cruel captivity at Wolfenbuettel, and in
consequence of indictments as numerous as they were grave (especially
from Lubeck, represented by his secretary), he was sentenced to death
in September, 1537, and his body quartered. At the taking of the
fortress of Wardenburg, Duke Christian captured Marx Meyer, his brother
Gerard Meyer, and a notorious Danish priest. These three were executed
by the sword, quartered, and their bodies shown on the rack to the
great satisfaction of the Danish people and the honest Lubeckenaars so
long oppressed.
Nicholas Nering, a citizen of those parts, had sold to Johannes Krossen
a farm with all its live stock and belongings, but, according to him,
he had reserved for himself the foal of a handsome mare, if it should
happen to be a colt, and a colt it turned out to be. At the period of
its weaning, in 1535, he claimed the young animal. Krossen contested
the claim. Thereupon, according to the evidence of his step-son, Peter
Klatteville, who was about fifteen, and whose evidence was recorded in
the black register of the court, Nering, not to be outdone, mounted his
black horse, the lad trotting barefooted by his side, and both went at
five a.m. to Krossen's farm. Nering got the colt out of the stables
while the youngster kept watch. Nering hid his spoil for three weeks at
Schwartz's, at the new mill, and after having made Peter promise to
keep the secret on the penalty of the most terrible punishment.
Different is the version recorded in the new register, written on
parchment and bound in white sow's skin. "In 1536, on the Monday after
_Reminiscere_, Nicholas Nering, accused of pillage, has confessed
before the court that riding along the Frankische landstrasse, after
passing the gate, he noticed three colts; that moved by a wicked
inspiration, he had gone up to them and thrown the leash over one of
these, and fastened it to the pommel of his saddle, and in that way
brought it to his own stables. After having heard the above confession,
it was decided to take Nicholas Nering outside the city and hang him on
the gallows."
Nicholas Nering's bad reputation did not dispose the council in his
favour; hence all his friends had employed him to restore the colt in
order to prevent the matter going into the courts, but he had proved
obstinate. While he was in his cell, he repeated that he was
indifferent to death, but that he deplored the calamities which his
execution would entail. It was an evident proof of his having concocted
a scheme of vengeance with his confidants. This became obvious enough
after his death, when his kindred left the city and began setting fire
to mills, homesteads and villages of the neighbourhood, and recruiting
accomplices by sheer weight of money. Two of these malefactors were
taken at Bart, and put on the rack. At Stralsund they arrested ten
individuals at once, among others, Christian Parow, the dean of the
drapers, and Johannes Blumenow, the dean of the shoemakers. Young Peter
Klatteville confessed to having set the New Mill on fire at the
instigation of his mother, Nering's widow. Three were put on the rack;
they declared having received of Parow ten marks for committing the
crime, and the ministers who conducted them to the execution had much
trouble to make them retract the accusation in the presence of the
crowd. The following is the version in the _Annales_ of Berckmann, one
of the ministers: "This is what I have personally seen. When Parow took
his stroll in the market place, the raven of Barber Grellen ran to peck
at his legs, so that Parow considered it the best part of valour to
quit the place. I am bound to admit, though, that this bird was in the
habit of annoying the peasants who happened to wear wide linen
breeches. Parow, who was an old man, did not pay sufficient attention
to his appearance as to have his breeches properly pulled up like those
of his companions; hence, there is nothing to prove that Providence
made use of the raven to declare which kind of death Parow deserved."
Berckmann is simply nothing more nor less than Satan's slave when he
tries to make Parow odious. It is true that this worthy man signed and
sealed the avowal of his forfeit; the act happened to fall into my
hands when I was secretary of the city. I destroyed it, in that way
saving an honourable family from future affronts, without causing any
damage to the public welfare. Besides, this concession was known to
every one. It had in the opinion of those who gave themselves time to
think the same value as that of Burgomaster Smiterlow branding himself
as a traitor and an infamous creature. During the inquiry, everybody
could see how incensed Parow was with the Nerings. If he did give them
ten marks, it was because the money was extorted from him bit by bit by
a certain Smit who perished on the rack. Nering's stepson Klatteville
even declares that Parow came one day to his mother and had a long
conversation with her. He does not know what Parow said to her,
but he seemed heartbroken at the behaviour of the Nerings, for he
wept like a child and went away weeping. In the draper's company
no one ever objected to sitting next to him at table, except Olaff
Lorbeer, a ridiculous personage, and the son of one of the principal
faction-mongers. He always overwhelmed the good old man with his coarse
allusions.
Johannes Blumenow, condemned to death on Tuesday, was only led to the
scaffold on the following Thursday. I saw the execution. The corpse
remained on the wheel, wrapped up by means of a cord in the blue dress
he wore every day. This was done in order to prevent the crows from
going to work too quickly. This Blumenow, a lively, though grey-haired
fellow, the dean of the shoemakers, was the wealthiest of the
Forty-Eight. He was very ambitious for the burgomastership which, he
flattered himself, he could discharge better than any body. At the last
burgomaster's banquet, that of Nicholas Sonnenberg, Frau Blumenow said
to the matron next to her: "I did not wish to come, but I ought to know
what to do when our turn comes to give the banquet." I have seen
Blumenow busy cleaning skins and during that time many a notable
personage clad in furs bowed down before him with more respect than
before any former burgomaster. Berckmann attributes no other wrong to
him than that of having induced Nering to renounce his citizenship
(that is honest enough); but, he insinuates they had made up their
minds to ruin him because he had in his possession the famous act
elaborated by the Forty-Eight. What a pity it is that Berckmann sets so
little store by the truth. Who compelled him to commit so many foolish
fabrications to paper? With a little trouble on his part he could have
learnt that about forty years previously a priest had been assassinated
in his dwelling. The murderer remained unknown until Blumenow, being
put to the torture, confessed to being the author of the crime. He had
counted upon a big sum of money, but the victim did not possess more
than a few pence. That, my very dear Berckmann, was what brought
Blumenow to the scaffold. The sedition mongers had taken their
precautions so well in the act of 1535 and in its appendix that, but
for the Nering lawsuits, the honest part of the community would have
never had the joy of seeing their oppressors pay for their misdeeds.
I have already recounted the pitiful end of Rolof Moller; the whole of
his line was overtaken with similar punishment. His eldest son, George,
who had been my schoolfellow at Rostock, was only a stripling when he
caught a nameless disease through frequenting a certain class of women.
He wanted to play the young country squire, did little work and spent
much. His stepfather took him away from his studies, and sent him to
England to learn the language of the country, and then to Antwerp, to
get an insight into business. The young fellow, however, continued his
spendthrift ways, and it became necessary to recall him. Rolof Moller's
second son, for a mere trifle, stabbed in the open street his cousin
with whom he had been drinking claret at an apothecary's. The name of
Moller is fated to be extinguished in a short time.
What shall I say about Burgomaster Lorbeer, the instigator of the three
riots, and especially of the third against Smiterlow? Everybody is
aware of the contempt into which he fell even during his lifetime, and
of the horrible malady that carried him slowly to the grave. After his
death his wife and daughters still believed themselves to be the
masters, as in the days when visiting an estate of the city they were
greeted with the formula of reception, "Be welcome, dear ladies, on thy
lands," and when the passers-by hailed them with a "God preserve you,
young and dear burgomasters." This deference had inflated their
presumption to such an extent that they lost all respect for both the
council and the law courts. They ended up by exhausting the Divine
patience.
The master-miller Nicholas Hildebrand was not the least influential
among the Forty-Eight. A busybody, self-interested, he meddled with
everything that could bring water to his milldam. Having had certain
private reasons for retiring to Wolgast, he intrigued so barefacedly as
to compel the duke to imprison him; and inasmuch as nobody dreamt of
interceding for him, he spent the whole winter in a cell. At his
discharge his legs were frost-bitten and he was eaten up with vermin.
Another active and restless firebrand, the erewhile tailor Marschmann,
who came to Wolgast to escape his creditors, kept Hildebrand company
the whole of the winter. Knigge took to making false coin; but for
Doctor Gentzkow, whose step-daughter he had married, the capital
sentence passed on him would not have been commuted into banishment.
Christian Herwig died in abject misery. They had given him the nickname
of Count Christian, because in his prosperous days he strutted about in
his best dress, one hand on his hip, and taking up the whole width of
the street by himself. His wife became an inmate of the St. John's
Asylum. One of his daughters, a downright slattern, had to beg her
bread and was found dead one morning; the rest vegetated in the most
sordid conditions. Nicholas Loewe, a quarrelsome creature who tried to
look like a captain in his white dress set off with red velvet, in the
end considered himself lucky at the St. John's Asylum to don the grey
small clothes provided for him by charity. Long before his death he
became stone blind. His daughter Anna was the talk of the town. I could
easily extend this list, for, as far as I recollect, not one of those
sedition-mongers escaped the punishment inflicted by the Almighty on
rebels unto the third and fourth generations.
Stralsund, there is no doubt, is likely to feel for a long while the
pernicious effects of Rolof Moller; but just as history praises
Cambyses, that arch-tyrant, _monstrum hominis el vera cloaca diaboli_
for having ordered the death of the prevaricating judge and for having
had his skin nailed on the judgment seat; so on one point, and on one
only, are the sedition-mongers entitled to commendation. They replaced
the banquets of the burgomaster and the councillors by presents of
goldsmith's work or by a piece of silver. Nowadays the city receives
from the burgomaster a piece of silver-gilt; a councillor merely gives
a piece of silverwork. The guilds have also done away with the banquets
of reception and election. Instead of foolishly wasting their money in
gormandizing, the new dean or the new companion offers a present of
silver which does duty at the fetes and gatherings, so that nowadays
the wooden and pewter goblets have made room for silver tankards. On
Twelfth Night the council and the corporations make a display of their
treasure, to show to the public that it is not only intact, but
increased.
After the tragedy of the Passion comes the glory of Easter Day.
Nicholas Smiterlow had suffered civil death; and among certain
individuals on the magistrates' bench the password had gone round to
prevent his resurrection. When, however, the disastrous issue of the
war but too plainly confirmed the prophecies of the old burgomaster,
the ironical nickname of "pacific" became the chief claim to his glory.
Councillors and burghers in plenary meeting assembled, dispatched two
of the former to him with the request for him to repair to the Town
Hall. Burgomaster Lorbeer tried to stop the mission by rubbing his arm
and saying that the letter of avowal signed by Smiterlow was a most
indispensable document on that occasion, inasmuch as it was a question
of annulling it. His attempt to redress the balance of his own game by
a delay of twenty-four hours was a failure. His objection was simply
put aside, and the secretary went at once to Blumenow's for the said
letter, together with the pact imposed by the Forty-Eight. When
Smiterlow entered the council-room all the burghers cried, "Here is our
beloved father, Nicholas the Pacific." He was conducted to his former
seat, above Lorbeer's; they begged him to give them the help of his
experience, and they promised that henceforth he should be exempt from
all missions and embassies. Standing on the treasury chest, so as to
afford a sight to everybody, the secretary tore the famous agreement
into two, and detached Smiterlow's seal from it. But the burghers were
not at all satisfied, and shouted to him to stick his penknife into and
to lacerate the letter of avowal in a similar fashion. And thus ended
the domination of the Forty-Eight.
Faithful--perhaps too faithful--to his habit, the ex-Augustine monk
Berckmann limns Smiterlow in the falsest colours. He fancies he is
using irony when he exclaims, "Burgomaster Nicholas Smiterlow was a
fine specimen of a man, conscious of his own worth, handsome, eloquent,
prudent and wise, and enjoying much consideration from princes and
nobles." It so happens that all this is simply so much bare truth, and
added to all these merits, Smiterlow had the fear of God and a wide
knowledge of the Scriptures. The _Annales_ of Master Gerhard Droege
quote him as the oldest patron and protector of the Evangelical
ministries; hence, everything that Berckmann writes in connexion with
or about him is inexact. Here is an instance. Berckmann states that
Smiterlow was confined to his bed twelve weeks, while in reality he was
taken ill one Sunday and died the next Tuesday, in 1539. His son
George, my junior by a twelvemonth, was burgomaster for twenty-two
years. He had inherited all his father's virtues; he went through
similar ordeals, and was vouchsafed the same comforts from on high, and
I see no reason to modify my letter to Duke Ernest Ludwig. That prince,
egged on by the caballers of his court, exclaimed at the news of
Smiterlow's demise, "I had two enemies at Stralsund. Smiterlow is dead,
and the devil will soon take Sastrow." I wrote to His Highness as
follows:
"Gracious prince and lord,--The defunct burgomaster was neither bad
naturally nor of base condition. His loyalty towards your Highness and
Stralsund never failed, as could be proved by his numerous services. If
he could have changed a farthing into a florin to the advantage of the
city he would unquestionably have done so. Neither he nor his ever
cheated the treasury. Hard-working, just and incorruptible, his speech
expressing the feelings of his heart he, was a slave to duty, and
severe or lenient as circumstances and persons dictated. Not at all
obstinate, he was particularly amenable to reason, for the public weal
was his sole guide. He administered the law with the strictest
impartiality. A foe to dissipation and excess, he led a useful and
retired life; though frugal and saving, he never remained behind where
honour demanded the spending of money. The greatest harmony prevailed
between him, his wife, and his servants. Though he had not pursued the
ordinary course of studies, he was endowed with supreme wisdom. He had
a most wonderful memory, and an equally wonderful gift of elocution. As
a loyal subject, I can but address to God one prayer. The King of the
Persians, Darius, prayed for as many zopyres as a pomegranate contains
pips; may your Highness be enabled to count as many Smiterlows in the
city and in the fields, not to mention the court; and while including
the latter I wish to cast no reflection on any one. What then are we to
think of those who dare to slander the defunct and to blacken his
character in your Highness' eyes, besides causing grief to his wife,
his children and his friends?"
Everybody on the other hand would freely admit that Rolof Moller was
overbearing, presumptuous, crafty, greedy, ungrateful, relentless, and
turbulent. Smiterlow and Moller were so utterly different in character
as to be unable to breathe the same air. At the council, in church, nay
in the city itself, the presence of one was sufficient to drive away
the other. Great, therefore, was the surprise when George Smiterlow
married Moller's niece. How would people, for whom the space of a large
city seemed insufficient, agree under the same roof, at the same board,
in the same bed? What strange _communicatio idiomatum_ was going to
result from that marriage? Hence, I should openly disadvise the
election of such a Smiterlow for the council, and least of all should I
make him a burgomaster, for they have many more of their mother's than
of the father's characteristics; _in hac lucta duarum diversarum
naturarum_ the Mollers appear to have had the advantage.
Nevertheless, this new generation is still sufficiently young to be
susceptible of improvement. From the bottom of my heart I wish it may
be so, for the sake both of its reputation and its welfare.
I have written the foregoing pages somewhat oppressed by the thought of
the ill-will I am drawing on my devoted head in praising Smiterlow at
the expense of Rolof Moller. The descendants of the latter will never
forgive me. But I derive consolation and strength from the appreciation
of educated men. They know that the historian's duty is to go straight
for his aim, and to proclaim the truth, whether for good or evil,
whether it pleases or displeases, and let come what may. I recommend to
my children submission to the authorities, no matter whether Pilatus or
Caiaphas governs. For the good of their soul and the welfare of their
body they ought never to make pacts with sedition-mongers.