CHAPTER VII

From Rome to Stralsund, by Viterbo, Florence, Mantua, Trent, Innspruck,

Ratisbon and Nuremberg--Various adventures

On the morning of July 6, 1546, in my twenty-sixth year, I left Rome

with my faithful companion Nicholas. My gold was sewn up in my neck

collar, the chain in my small clothes. In the way of luggage I had a

small satchel containing a shirt and the poems composed by my brother

at Spires and in Rome; slung across my shoulders I wore a kind of strap

to which I tied my cloak in the day. I had my sword by my side and a

rosary dangling from the belt, like a soldier joining his regiment. We

had agreed (it being a question of life and death) that I should

pretend to be dumb; hence Nicholas did not stir from my side for a

moment wherever I went. The landsknechten, who spoke to me on the road

without receiving an answer, were informed by him of my pretended

infirmity. "What a pity," they said; "and such a handsome fellow, too.

Never mind," they added, "he'll none the less split those brigands of

Lutherans lengthwise." "You may be sure of that," replied my comrade,

and thanks to this stratagem we got across the lines of the Welch

soldiery.

On the morning after our leaving Rome, Duke Octavius went by, posting.

He was accompanied by five people. When we got to Ronciglione, about

two miles from Viterbo, we made up our minds to sup there, and go to

bed afterwards, in order to arrive early in the city fresh and hearty,

though not before daylight, inasmuch as we wanted to lay in a stock of

things. Scarcely had we sat down to table when a turbulent crowd of

soldiers invaded the inn; the host told us to remain quiet, for he was

shaking in his shoes for himself. The bandits commenced by flinging him

out of his own door; the larder was pillaged, and after having drunk to

their heart's content, they staved in the barrels and swamped the

cellars with the wine. It was an abominable bit of business and

unquestionably the Welch, and Latin mercenaries are greater ruffians

than the German landsknechten; at any rate, if we are to judge from

what they did in a friendly country, and virtually under the very eyes

of the pope. They invited us to accompany them to Viterbo, in spite of

Nicholas pointing out to them that night was coming on apace, and that

the gates would be shut. "We'll get in for all that," they said. We

were bound to follow them. We got there about midnight, and they were

challenged by the guard. "Who goes there?" he asked. "Soldiers of Duke

Octavius," was the answer, and thereupon the gate was opened.

I recommend the following to the meditation of my children; let them

compare my adventure with that of Simon Grynaeus, related at length in

the writings of Philip Melanchthon, Selneccerus, Camerarius, Manlius

and other learned personages. In 1529 Grynaeus, then professor of

mathematics at Heidelberg, came to see Melanchthon at the diet of

Spires; he heard Faber, one of his old acquaintances, emit from the

pulpit many errors in connexion with transubstantiation. Having gone up

to him when they came out of church, they started a discussion, and

Faber, on the pretext of wishing to resume it, invited him to come to

his inn the next morning. Melanchthon and his friends dissuaded

Grynaeus from going. The next day, at the dinner hour, a weakly-looking

old man stopped Manlius at the entrance to the hall asking him where

Grynaeus was to be found, the process-servers, according to him, being

on the look out to arrest him. Thereupon the various learned men who

had foregathered there immediately conducted Grynaeus out of the town,

and waited on the banks until he had crossed the Rhine; they had come

upon the law-officers three or four houses away from the inn; luckily

the latter neither knew them nor Grynaeus. As for the old man, there

was no further trace of him; they made sure it was an angel. I myself

am inclined to think it was some pious Nicodemus who, having got wind

of the wicked designs of Faber, made it his business to frustrate them

without compromising himself. Now for my own adventure.

We entered Viterbo in the middle of the night. Prudence dictated the

avoidance of the mercenaries' lodgings, for a meeting with Petrus would

have been fatal to us; as it happened, the soldiers swarmed everywhere.

Wandering from house to house, and devoured with anxiety, we invoked

the Lord, our last hope. And behold a man of forty and of excellent

appearance accosted us. We had never seen him, and not a syllable had

fallen from our lips. We were dressed in the Welch fashion; everybody,

even in plain daylight, would have taken us for soldiers. Well, without

the slightest preamble, he addressed us in our own language. "You are

Germans," he said, "and in a Welch country; don't forget it. If the

podesta lays hold of you, it means the strappado, and perhaps worse.

You are making for Germany." (How did he know, except by reading our

thoughts?) "Let me put you into the right road." Dumb with

astonishment, we followed him in silence as far as the gates of the

town; he exchanged a few words with the custodian, who, in his own

gibberish, said to us: "For the love of you, friends, I'll disobey my

orders, which expressly forbid me to open the gates before dawn. You'll

find nothing in the faubourg, I warn you; the soldiers have pillaged

and burnt everything, but you'll not die for being obliged to do one

night without food and drink." Saying which he showed us out and

promptly shut the gates upon us.

Who had been our guide? I am still asking myself the question. As for

us, reassured by the consciousness of the Divine presence; and in our

hearts we gave praise for this miraculous deliverance. The faubourg,

destroyed by fire, was simply a mass of ruins. We slept in the open air

on the straw of a barn where the wheat is threshed out by oxen and

horses. It was daylight when we opened our eyes, and the first thing we

saw was a gallows. Towards midday we got as far as Montefiascone, a

pretty town famed for its Muscat wine. Thanks be to God, we continued

our journey without being again alarmed, and we did not catch sight of

any mercenaries until we came to Bologna.

We halted at Montefiascone until the evening and enjoyed the roast

fowls and savoury dishes, but the oppressive heat interfered with our

appetite, though the bottle was more frequently appealed to. A story is

told a of traveller who was in the habit of getting his servant to

taste the wine at every hostelry they stopped.[36] "_Est_," said the

latter if the wine was bad, "_Est, Est_" if it was passable, "_Est,

Est, Est_" if it was good. And his master either continued his route or

dismounted according to the signal. At Montefiascone, however, the

servant did not fail to cry: "_Est, Est, Est_," and his master drank so

long as to contract an inflammation, of which he died. When the

relatives inquired about the cause of his death, the servant replied:

"_Est, est, est facit quod dominus meus hic jacet_," and in his grief he

kept repeating: "_O Est, est, est, dominus meus mortuus est_."

On July 9 we reached Acquapendente, where my brother died, I visited

the church without being able to discover his burial place. To ask

questions would have been tantamount to betraying ourselves,

considering that the Germans were the butt of public hatred.

Sienna, an important town with a celebrated university, is called

_Siena Virgo_, though it lost its virginity long ago. From a

neighbouring mountain one notices two small burghs; the one is called

Cent, the other Nonagent. The pope being at Sienna, a monk undertook to

show him _Centum nonaginta civitates_. When he got his Holiness to the

top he showed him the two places in question.

Lovely Florence is the pearl of Italy. At the entrance to each town

they said to us, "Liga la spada" (Tie the hilt to the sheath). At

Florence we had to give up our weapons. If we had only crossed the city

a man would have accompanied us to restore them at the other gate, but

on our declaring that we were going to stay until the evening our

swords were taken from us, and the hilts provided with a wooden label,

part of which they gave us to keep. Besides, some one came into the

city with us, and, among other useful information, showed us a

beautiful hostelry where they treated us remarkably well for our money.

A magnificent palace, a church entirely constructed of variegated

marble, adjusted with marvellous skill and art, a dozen lions and

lionesses, two tigers and an eagle, that is all I remember. There were

ever so many other curiosities to see, but our heads were full of

Germany. When the heat of the day abated we pursued our journey; our

arms were restored to us on our presenting part of the label.

After having crossed Mount Scarperia, which fully deserves its name,

seeing that it constitutes the most fatal passage of Italy to

shoeleather and feet, we got to Bologna in the morning of July 13.

Bologna is a big city belonging to the pope (_Bononia grassa, Padua la

passa_), and endowed with a famous university. The town was teeming

with mercenaries, so we were not particularly anxious to stop in it.

At some distance from Bologna begins a canal dug by the hand of man.

There the Lord caused us to meet with an inhabitant of Mantua who had

just enlisted. We proposed to hire a boat as far as Ferrara together.

"Whither are you going?" he asked. As we had the appearance of

soldiers, and as he might conceive some surprise at seeing us turn our

backs on headquarters, we hit upon the idea of telling him that our

master was at the Council of Trent. "Oh," he remarked, "you are going

farther, then?" We said neither "yes" nor "no." He knew a little Latin,

like myself, and so I no longer kept up my part of a dumb man before

him. He professed but small regard for the pope and papism. "How dare

you," I exclaimed, "talk in that way in Italy, and on the very

territory of the Church? And why, if these are your opinions, do you

take service against the Evangelicals?" "What does it matter?" he

replied; "I am not risking the loss of a cardinal's hat. I am a

fighting man, and fight for those who pay me." When we got near to the

Po, he said: "Ferrara lies no doubt in your most direct road to

Germany, but what could you see there of interest? It is only a big

town of the old style. You had better come to Mantua, the country of

Virgil, a handsome, pleasant, and strong city, with a superb castle.

The rest you are likely to get in the boat will compensate for your

coming out of your way. I'll go on shore just before Ferrara, and will

get a boatman; the place is famed for its fat geese, which, at this

season of the year, one eats smoking hot from the spit. I'll bring one

back with me, together with bread and wine, and I shall only be gone a

little while."

Ferrara, with its famous university, its actual importance, and ancient

origin, unquestionably aroused our curiosity. Nevertheless, the advice

of our soldier-friend was not to be despised, because by going up the

Po, we advanced in spite of the heat. Our guide soon came back,

bringing with him everything he had promised. The boatman whom he

brought was simply in his shirt sleeves, and drank at one draught a

whole measure of heavy wine we offered him; then, flinging the towing

rope over his shoulder, he towed us to Mantua, Ostiglia being our

halting place for the night. Having got to Mantua in the morning of

July 15, we were enabled to wander through the town before dinner time.

Our expectations were in no way disappointed. After having shown us the

castle and the principal buildings, our amiable soldier-friend insisted

upon entertaining us at the inn. "Are you provided with small change

that is current everywhere?" he asked us. "The fact is," he went on,

"that the landlords pursue a regular system of cheating. They refuse to

take your small money, so that you are obliged to change a crown, and

then at the next inn they decline to accept the coin given to you

except under its value. Give me a crown, and I'll get you money for it

which is current as far as Trent." He brought back good pieces of

silver, not to the amount of one crown, but of two crowns, asking us to

accept the value of the second as a present, "because," he said, "I

consider you very honest and straightforward companions." When we were

outside the walls, he gave us full particulars of the route we were to

take, recommended us to the safeguard of all the angels, and gave us

his blessing. "It is worth more in the sight of the Almighty and

against the devil than the blessing of Pope Paul at Rome by his own

sacred hands." This was indeed a happy meeting, and we had reason to be

grateful to the Lord.

Not far from Mantua, at a spot where the road branches off into four

different directions, we came upon two travellers coming from Verona.

If we had said one pater more or less with our good friend we should

have missed them, which would have been a pity, for they turned out to

be my former fellow-travellers from Kempten to Rome, who, having pushed

as far as Naples, had returned by way of Venice; they were making for

home by Milan and France. They wished me to go their way, and I was

very willing; but as Nicholas was altogether of a different mind, it

would have been wrong to vex the comrade God had so marvellously

provided for me.

When I told them all about Petrus, my interlocutors had no doubt about

the danger I had incurred by my imprudent confidence. Italians are not

of much account. Germans, after a long stay in that country, end up by

not being worth anything at all; and the proverb to that effect is a

true one: "_Tedesco Italianato e un diavolo incarnato._" I learnt later

on, both from writing and from oral news, about the troubles between

France and the Low Countries, and about the obstacles we should have

encountered if we had selected the route of Milan. It gave me a new

subject for being grateful to the Lord.

We passed near enough to Verona to catch a glimpse of the buildings, to

judge by which it must be a big town. At Trent, where both languages

are spoken, and even more German than Italian, my pretended infirmity

ceased, and it was Nicholas' turn to be mute, for the Lubeckian dialect

is not understood until one gets to Brunswick.

In Italy the scorpions slip in everywhere; into the rooms, under the

beds, in the sheets. Hence they place before the windows scorpion oil,

that is oil in which one of these reptiles has been drowned. When put

on the sting the oil stops the effect of the poison. Personally, I

never caught a glimpse of a scorpion during the whole of my stay in

Italy.

On July 18 we reached Botzen, a town of importance, famed for its rich

mines. On the 19th we were at Brixen, a pleasant burgh, prettily

situated. Its chapter enjoys great consideration. Dr. Gaspard Hoyer was

its canon, and died there.

The Augsburg troops under the orders of Sebastian Schaertlin[37] had

carried the castle of Ehrenberg. King Ferdinand tried to enter the

place with the aid of the miners of Botzen, but the pay ran short, and,

greatly vexed, the savage horde, which, though by no means devout,

after all preferred Luther to the pope, made its way home. Between

Brixen and Sterzing we had the misfortune of falling in with them. At

the sight of our Italian dress, and our soldier-like equipment, they

shook their spears. "Kill the papists; down with the Welch scum," they

cried. Nicholas, who was accustomed to enact the spokesman, uttered a

few words in his own dialect; thereupon the imprecations grew louder.

"They belong to the Low Countries; they are no better than the

Italians." "Brothers," I shouted, "you make a mistake. We are faithful

Germans, Lutherans and Evangelicals like yourselves. Hence, no

violence."

Thereupon we fell a-talking to each other. They complained bitterly of

the king, and of his pretensions to carry on a war without a red cent.

"Kicks instead of pay," they said. "We are much obliged. We are going

back to our mines, where, at any rate, we can earn something." We

parted quite cordially, and I once more recommended my faithful

Nicholas to hold his tongue for the future, and to let me do the

talking.

Innspruck, the capital of the Tyrol, is a moderately big town with long

streets, consisting largely of stables for some thousands of horses,

for the kings, the Austrian archdukes and their suites frequently halt

there. The objurgations of the miners of Botzen induced us to change

our dress according to the German fashion.

Our most direct route lay by Ulm, Cannstadt, Spires, Frankfurt, then by

Hesse and Brunswick. There are, as it happens, two routes from

Innspruck, the one for Bavaria, the other for Swabia. Having met at the

city gates some people who professed to be going to Germany, we

followed them without further inquiry. What then was our surprise at

getting, not into Swabia, but into Bavaria, to Hall and to Ratisbon.

Well, as we learnt later on, at that very moment the numerous troops

the emperor was expecting from France and Spain were preparing to enter

Swabia; the papal troops, whom the Imperial messages left little or no

truce, arrived at Landshut, while all the Protestant forces, with the

Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse at their head, occupied

the country. But for the Lord constituting Himself our guide we should

have run innumerable perils.

We intended to go from Hall to Ratisbon on a raft, but on the overladen

craft there was a horse stamping about in a most disquieting manner,

causing the water to well up between the disjointed timber. We

preferred to land and to tire our legs to swallowing more water than

was necessary to our thirst. Half a league down the stream, the

pole-men having got rid of the horse, drew near the shore once more to

renew their offers of service. We remained faithful, however, to solid

earth.

When we got to the beautiful monastery of Ebersberg, our curiosity

tempted us to get an idea of the results of a mendicant's life. As such

we humbly and contritely addressed the chancellor, when we entered the

abbot's presence. "We have come all the way from Rome; our resources

are exhausted," we said. After having promised us to do what he can,

the chancellor begins to inquire about the Italian army. "We left it at

Bologna," we replied; "it was being reviewed. You'll see it very

shortly." This had the effect of turning the saintly dwelling upside

down. The monks crowded round the abbot and took to running hither and

thither as if bereft of their senses, because for a monastery situated

as this was, in the open country, Roman mercenaries or Schmalkalden

soldiers were practically one and the same thing.

And inasmuch as our humble persons were forgotten in all this

confusion, I said to Nicholas: "Let us go to the inn and show these

'frocked' individuals that we can do without their soup. A snap for

that business, unless we have been too inexperienced at it." We ordered

the best dishes and washed them down with generous wine. The echoes of

our gay repast must have reached the monastery, and when we had paid

our reckoning, we pursued our journey.

We stopped four days in the big and beautiful city of Ratisbon. King

Ferdinand, his wife, his daughters and the court ladies in gorgeous

dresses, lodged in the principal square, the houses of which where

elegantly decorated. We saw the carriage sent by the Duke of Mantua to

his betrothed. It was entirely white, and perfectly built; the iron was

replaced everywhere by silver, even for the smallest nail. The team

consisted of four magnificent white mares, without the tiniest spot;

the harness was of silver, and their crups were ornamented with three

rings of the precious metal. Dressed in white silk, with boots and whip

of the same colour, and silver spurs, the coachman slowly drove thrice

round the square.

It was very evident that both the emperor and the king were using all

their energy. Night and day, at home and beyond the frontier, strict

guard was kept. The army of Bohemia was encamped beyond the Danube,

while the Germans occupied the head of the bridge on the side of the

city. We were warned of the danger of venturing among the Bohemians;

between these madmen and the German soldiers there was nearly every day

a fresh dispute resulting in wounds which often proved fatal. On the

other hand, the Protestant troops were on the move, and it was most

difficult to cross their lines. We could, however, not remain in

Ratisbon. So we plucked up our courage and started, decided not to lose

our heads in case of arrest, but to ask to be taken before the superior

officer, for, after all, we had no need to fear an interrogatory. What

was the danger of saying whence we came and whither we were going? Our

lot was, moreover, in the hands of Him who in Italy had confided us to

the protection of his angels.[38] We trudged straight on to Nuremberg.

The weather was fine, the roads good, and the inns well provisioned.

Nuremberg is the _oculus Germaniae_. "Germany," according to the

Italians, "has but one eye, Nuremberg." Nuremberg harbours the

tradesmen, Augsburg the big merchants. We stayed three days in this

interesting city, the study of whose civil and ecclesiastical

institutions is by no means a waste of time. We there completed our

German attire by doublets with short waists. It seemed to me

unnecessary to hide the gold and jewels any longer in my clothes, for

in spite of the eighty miles from our own native land, we already

fancied ourselves in it.

The lord of Plawe had taken up his quarters at our hostelry. He

was a Bohemian of important station, an experienced soldier, and a

cool-headed, prudent, and clever personage, enjoying much favour with

the electors and the princes. He was known by all the dignitaries of

France, Germany, and Italy. His history may prove interesting to my

children. The lord of Plawe had no children, and to prevent the lapse

of his fiefs to the suzerain lord, he prevailed upon his wife to

pretend being pregnant, and arranged with a shepherd of the

neighbourhood, a strong, robust fellow, whose wife was genuinely in

that condition. The newborn being of the male sex, it was carried

clandestinely to the castle, where they had great rejoicings, a

magnificent christening with high-born godparents. Seven years later,

however, the lady of Plawe really gave birth to a son; the two children

were brought up like brothers. When he came of age the elder visited

the courts, and received a cordial welcome everywhere. The father died,

and the elder, feeling himself cramped at home, abandoned the property

to the younger in consideration of a yearly allowance. The mother is

taken ill in her turn, and before her death reveals to her own child

the whole of the secret. The elder, whose allowance is stopped,

institutes a claim, and is answered that he is the mere son of a

shepherd. The affair is referred to King Ferdinand, the suzerain lord,

the lords of Prawe bearing the title of Burgrave of Mesnia, and first

chancellor of the kingdom of Bohemia. To prove his parentage he

produced the many letters in which his father recommended him in

special terms to the emperor, and to the princes as his lawful heir.

Several important personages, the majority belonging to the

Evangelicals took an interest in his case, and provided largely for his

maintenance. The principal Welch and German universities all declared

that he proved his affiliation. King Ferdinand, though, leant to the

other side, no doubt _ratione papisticae religionis_.

Under these difficult circumstances, this gentleman considered it

better not to take service in the war between the emperor and the

League of Schmalkalden, inasmuch as he would neither be unfaithful to

his master nor to his conscience. The catastrophe which he dreaded

nevertheless overtook him. About six months after the termination of

the war, when, probably, he felt exceedingly pleased with himself on

account of his clever abstention, he was laid by the heels by order of

King Ferdinand, shipped on a raft, and taken to Hungary; and from that

time he was no more heard of.

On August 11 we only reached Nordhausen in the Harz mountains, just as

they were closing the city gates, but sufficiently early, though, to

notice ten corpses tied to as many posts. The guard, which had been

reinforced, was inclined to leave us outside. They pointed to the men

that had been executed. "If they are there, it is because they deserved

it," we answered; "ours is a different case." When we got inside we

could not find a shelter anywhere. I inquired for the dwelling of the

burgomaster and found him at home.

After the few customary inquiries about our names, our place of birth

and our destination, the burgomaster questioned us about the beginning

of the hostilities. We told him what we knew, and then exposed our

embarrassing situation to him. "Never during this painful journey, not

even in Italy, had we met with such inhuman conduct," we said. "We are

not asking for charity. We are willing to pay for what we get; nobody

shall have cause to complain of us. We ask you, therefore, to direct us

to a respectable place of shelter."

Our very sordid appearance did not prevent the burgomaster from

considering us altogether inoffensive, and, like a man of sense, he

explained apologetically, "Our citizens," he remarked, "are still under

the influence of a strong alarm, for we know for certain that a band

subsidized by the confederate of hell who reigns at Rome is scouring

the Saxon country, poisoning wells and pastures and setting fire to

everything else. The proof of it is in the ten executed men whom you

must have noticed at your arrival. Their crime admits of no doubt."

"Agreed," I replied, "but if our conscience were in the least

reproaching us, do you think we should have the courage to present

ourselves before the first magistrate of the town?"

The burgomaster told one of his servants to take us with his

compliments to a certain private individual, who happened to be a

butcher with a stock of beautiful, luscious meat. On the hearth the

beef was simmering in a large pot, no doubt to be retailed hot next

morning. We asked him for some of that; then inquired about the liquor

he could offer us. "I have got some excellent Nordhausen beer," he

said. We, however, were used to wine. "Cannot you give us some wine?

That's what we want with our meat." "If you care to pay for it. It's so

much per measure." "Here's the money." "Do you want any fish?" "Yes;

let us have a comfortable evening after this rough day. Come and sit

yourself down with us and keep us company." He stared at us very hard,

not knowing what to think. In spite of his knowing look, he behaved

very well to us.

When our hunger and thirst were appeased, the butcher asked us whether

we would go to bed or remain where we were. "Bring us some clean straw,

and that will be enough for us. We shall not have the trouble of

dressing in the morning," we answered. Besides the straw he gave us

pillows, downright excellent beds, and snowy sheets; hence, in wishing

him good-night, we assured him that we were born to understand each

other. Next morning, the one who was the first to rise found the door

bolted; we were obliged to wait for our host. We settled the reckoning

with him, and the servant who had prepared our couch got a tip.

We stopped a day and a half at Luneburg, which we reached on August 15,

and in view of our approaching meeting with our nearest and dearest, we

paid attention to our dress. We crossed the burgh of Moelln, where

Eulenspiegel lies buried, but at Lubeck a messenger who caught us up

informed me that my uncle Andreas Schwartz was living at Moelln with

his wife and children, and begged of me to retrace my steps. I spent a

whole day with him, and when we had chatted to our heart's content he

provided me with a horse and attendant as far as Lubeck.

At the city gate I wanted to turn short; perhaps I was still feeling

the effect of the stirrup cup. My horse gave way, and for a moment the

rider and the animal lay motionless. They were under the impression

that I had broken the left thigh bone; but I got up safe and well.

At Lubeck my faithful travelling companion loyally repaid his debt. I

took the coach, and at last, after a journey of eight weeks' (eighteen

days of which had been spent in resting at various places, the distance

from Rome to Stralsund being 250 German miles, and consequently five

times as many Welch ones), I heard the "welcome" from my father,

mother, brother and five sisters, all of whom were in excellent health.

Together with Dr. Hoyer's letter, I handed over the objects restored by

Cardinal St. Flore according to the inventory. My parents gave me two

of the rings. As I was as sore as the most foundered horse, my mother

had a bath prepared for me twice a week, and she herself rubbed my

thigh with curd soap, so that my limbs soon recovered their usual

suppleness.

PART II

CHAPTER I

I am appointed Pomeranian Secretary--Something about my diurnal and

nocturnal Journeys with the Chancellor--Missions in the Camps--Dangers

in the Wake of the Army

When I had recovered from the fatigue of my travels, I came to the

conclusion that a life of monotony and frequent visits to the tavern

were not at all to my taste. The day would come when I had a wife and

children to maintain; I therefore wanted a means of livelihood. I voted

for the scribal occupation, and had recourse to the influence of

Superintendent-general Knipstrow to obtain a position at the

chancellery of Wolgast. Our friend's efforts having been successful, I

was summoned to Wollin, where the prince was going to hold a diet. The

journey by coach enabled me to make ample acquaintance both with the

councillors and with my colleagues. I entered upon my duties on

November 14, 1546.

The staff of the chancellery was composed of Jacob Citzewitz,

chancellor; Erasmus Hausen, accountant-general; Joachim Rust,

proto-notary; Johannes Gottschalk, Lawrence Dinnies, Christopher Labbun

and Heinrich Altenkuke, secretaries. I need only mention for form's

sake Valentine von Eichstedt, a student from Greifswald, whom the

chancellor wished to initiate in the dispatch of current affairs.

Valentine hung about the office, now and again copying a fragment of a

letter. He was wretchedly dressed; his poor blue jacket scarcely

reached to his waist, while, on the other hand, his hose fell over his

boots. Rust and Gottschalk refused to have him at the clerks' table; he

had his meals lower down with the servants. In spite of this,

Valentine, at the retirement of Erasmus Hausen, was appointed to the

audit office through the influence of the chancellor. In order to get

him into the habit of pleading he was entrusted with the cases

that were settled by mutual agreement; after which he was sent to

Wittenberg to finish his studies, and in a very short period he became

accountant-general. A few years later Citzewitz gave up his position of

chancellor to him. The protege paid his benefactor in the usual way of

the world, and on that chapter I myself could say a great deal.

The experience I had gained at the Imperial Chamber and in the

chancelleries compelled Rust and Gottschalk to acknowledge that I could

handle my pen, and inasmuch as the chancellor preferred my work to

theirs, they seized every opportunity to do me harm. I had only to ask

them for a few materials for this or that work to be sure to get it

badly done and teeming with inaccuracies.

The dissolution of the League of Schmalkalden[39] and the threatening

attitude of the emperor imparted a feverish activity to the

correspondence which was being exchanged between our princes, the

Elector of Brandenburg and the Elector of Saxony. The latter spent the

winter very sadly at Altenburg. Chancellor Jacob Citzewitz was the soul

of these negotiations; his experience of imperial and provincial diets,

his learning heightened by eloquence, the personal consideration he

enjoyed, his imposing figure, his lofty mind, and his assiduous labours

all these, in fact, singled him out to represent the princes both in

the councils and on more solemn occasions. Being fully aware of the

weightiness of his task, he wholly devoted himself to it; all the

enactments of the princes were drawn up by his pen and defied

criticism. When Citzewitz at the termination of a debate asked: "Who

undertakes the inditing?" all the councillors cried in chorus: "That's

Solomon's business," for that was the nickname they had bestowed upon

him.

Day and night, on horseback or on wheels, I scoured the highways in

company of the chancellor. Starting from Berlin in the evening, we

reached Stettin the next afternoon in sufficient time to present the

report. Then there were the nights spent at work with the chancellor,

who dictated to me the decisions to be submitted to the council on the

morrow. I made a fair draft of them before the sitting, so that

immediately after their having been read they could be sealed and

dispatched. If my children should wish to compute the amount of labour

I gave to the court and to Stralsund they will derive a salutary lesson

from the reward these labours have brought me in my old days: _in fine

laborum_, ingratitude.

Owing to those constant journeys I did not spend four weeks in six

months at Wolgast, and still less at the chancellery. I lodged with

Master Ernest, the cook of his Serene Highness Duke Philip, and of his

august father and grandfather. Ernest was an honest and God-fearing

man.

The year 1547 was an anxious one for the courts of Stettin and Wolgast,

and the news that the Duke of Wurtemberg had tendered his submission

accelerated the departure of a mission to the emperor. It was

instructed to deny all participation of the princes in the League of

Schmalkalden. The envoys of Duke Barnim were Dr. Falcke, in the

capacity of chancellor, and Captain Jacob Putkammer; those of Duke

Philip, Captain Moritz Damitz and Heinrich Normann. I was designated to

accompany those four personages, and on March 10 we started by way of

Silesia.

At Zittau we were obliged to leave Damitz in the doctor's hands; after

which we crossed the Forest of Bohemia and reached Lertmeritz; next to

Prague, the principal and best fortified town of the kingdom. We spent

several days there in order to get an idea of the condition of affairs.

The dislike of the Bohemians to march against the Elector of Saxony was

evident, but King Ferdinand brought heavy pressure to bear upon them,

he called up many of his troops both from Silesia and from Hungary.

These Hungarian horsemen, called Husards, happen to be pitiless

brigands. The King had placed them under the command of Sebastian von

der Weitmuelen, who, at the beginning of the war, had been appointed

regent of the kingdom. The headquarters were at Eger, where this

soldiery cut the children's hands and feet off to put them into their

hats instead of plumes.

The councillors sent me to reconnoitre in the direction of Eger, at

Schlackenwerth, and at Schlackenwald. My guide followed on foot. He was

an intelligent lad, speaking both German and Bohemian. I ascertained

that the Bohemians had cut down the trees in the wood, and as such made

the route impassable for the horse and artillery, it was even

impossible for the landsknechten to cross it with their standards

flying.

After that, the councillors sent me to the castle of Gaspard Pflug, to

whom the States of the country had entrusted the command of the

troops.[40] He was very reserved. "What are we to do?" he said, looking

perplexed. "The Elector of Saxony is our ally, our co-religionist; we

cannot leave him to his fate. On the other hand, Ferdinand is our king.

Are we to jeopardize our liberties?" Gaspard Pflug, having taken refuge

at Magdeburg after the capture of the elector, built himself opposite

the cathedral an elegant dwelling, where he ended his days, the king

having confiscated his property.

While the elector encamped before Leipzig, the emperor overran the

Algau and Swabia, imposing heavy fines and big garrisons to the towns

forced to capitulate. The Spaniards committed every excess, and above

all, in Wurtemberg.[41]

On April 23 and 25 the sun assumed so sombre an aspect that everybody

rushed to the threshold of his house; both experts and scientific men

foretold strange events.

[Illustration: Stettin. Wittenberg. Spires. _From old Prints_.]

One day I was strolling alone outside Lertmeritz around the walls (for

the time hung heavily on my hands), when an individual, his eyes

blazing with anger, assailed me without warning, vilifying me and

trying to fling me into the moat. He was evidently under the impression

of having come upon a spy. I endeavoured to convince him to the

contrary; the difficulty was to understand each other. Finally, with

hands clasped together as if they were bound, I gave him to understand

with a sign of the head that I was ready to enter the town with him.

Thanks to heaven, he consented to this, although he did not cease his

imprecations. Before I had fairly entered our hostelry two members of

the council came to ask our deputies to forbid their people to leave

the city and the promenading on the walls. "We know very well that we

have nothing to fear from you," they said, "but our citizens are quick

to take umbrage, and just now one of your folk narrowly escaped coming

to grief."

On April 16 the news came to Lertmeritz that two days previously the

Elector of Saxony had been made a prisoner. Immediately leaving Bohemia

we started in the direction of Torgau, but to get to the camp at

Wittemberg the perils were endless, for the Spanish troops, whose lines

we had to cross, shrank from no misdeeds.[42] Hence it was resolved

that I should go to Wittenberg to get a safe-conduct--a decision

against which I protested. "How am I to pass without the smallest bit

of parchment?" "Never mind," exclaimed Damitz; "the Lord is the best

safeguard." "In that case," I retorted, "are you not yourselves under

the Divine protection?" My argument was, however, in vain; my life

weighed less in the balance than that of my superiors.

In my capacity of a member of the missions to Bohemia and to the camp

of the elector, I wore a yellow gorget which was the insignia of the

Protestants. I was obliged to hide it in my breast and to replace it

with the one bought for me, the red gorget of the Imperialists. And

thus I started. If they had caught me with the double insignia upon me,

my account would soon have been settled. I should have been slung up on

the nearest tree.

I crossed Muehlberg, where the elector, wounded in the cheek, had been

made a prisoner on the very spot where his passion for the chase caused

so much damage to his unfortunate subjects. Wherever the eye turned

there were signs of the recent battle; broken lances, shattered

muskets, and torn-up harnesses littered the ground, and all along the

road soldiers dying of their wounds and from want of sustenance. Around

Wittenberg itself all the villages were deserted; the inhabitants had

taken flight without leaving anything behind them. Here, the corpse of

a peasant, a group of dogs fighting for the entrails; there, a

landsknecht with just a breath of life left to him, but the body

putrefying, his arms stretched out at their widest, and his legs far

enough apart to put a bar between them.

At the end of my journey and within sight of the Spanish troops I

passed a Spaniard, who said to me: "My good and handsome horseman, your

service with the emperor is but of recent date." I rode a few steps

further; then, undoing my gorget, I rubbed it against my boot to make

it appear less new. At last, I reached the camp, where I lost several

days in fruitless endeavours.

Every now and again there was firing from Wittenberg. Some Pomeranian

horse-troopers with whom I had made acquaintance warned me not to keep

to the high road if I should venture in that direction, but to go at

random in order to avoid becoming a butt. A couple of steps in front of

me a ball whizzed so closely past an individual's head that the shock

or the fright felled him to the ground, where he was picked up for

dead. From that moment I suspended my strolls.

Dr. Seld, the vice-chancellor, whom I succeeded in seeing,[43] did not

disguise the deep irritation of the emperor. I answered that neither

Duke Philip nor his brother, Barnim, notwithstanding the former's

marriage with the sister of the Elector of Saxony, had given the

slightest assistance to the Protestants, either in money, men or deeds,

and that it would not be difficult for his Majesty to convince himself

of this. Nevertheless my negotiations made no progress.

It was said in the camp that after the defeat of the elector, when

Christopher Carlowitzi[44] the principal counsellor of Maurice, came to

salute the emperor, whose docile instrument he was, the latter

exclaimed: "Well, Carlowitz, what is going to happen?" "Everything is

in your Majesty's hands," Carlowitz replied. "Yes, yes, something will

happen," was the retort. And when the elector bent the knee before the

emperor, saying, "Most clement emperor and lord," King Ferdinand

interrupted with, "Ah, so he is your emperor now? But what about

Ingoldstadt?[45] Wait a while. We shall soon settle your account." And

when the death sentence was delivered, Ferdinand insisted upon its

prompt execution. The Marquis de Saluces, on the other hand, repeated

to the emperor, even before the arrival of the Elector of Brandenburg,

that the best sheep in his flock was the Elector of Saxony, and that

his execution would rouse the whole of Germany.

As I found it impossible to get a safe-conduct, I returned to Torgau,

and immediately after hearing my report, our embassy ordered its

carriages and took the direct road to Stettin.

Inasmuch as the Elector of Brandenburg loudly promised his good offices

with the emperor, the princes dispatched me with a letter of thanks to

him to the camp at Wittenberg. They also prompted the language I was to

hold to the vice-chancellor and to the other Imperial counsellors.[46]

To accelerate matters they prepared six relays of horses for me, with

precise indications on paper as to their whereabouts, though I started

from Wolgast on a pitiful cart-horse, equipped anyhow, for neither

saddle, bridle nor stirrups were in condition. They thought that it did

not matter, as I had to change animals at a short distance. So far so

good. But neither at the first, second, third, fourth nor fifth stage

was there a sign of a horse. The last stage was Brandenburg--the Old.

Abraham Gatzkow, a gentleman of Lower Pomerania, had indeed provided a

downright good and properly equipped saddle-horse for me, only on the

day of my arrival he had mounted it for a ride to the camp, so that the

same jade carried me to the end of my journey.

On June 1 I alighted at the tent of the Elector of Brandenburg, and

when presenting my dispatch, I begged of Chancellor Weinleben to spare

me a long stay. Next morning when I called again, he exclaimed: "Oh,

the affair takes more time than you think," which remark did not

prevent my insisting upon an answer on June 3, inasmuch as the elector

went several times a day to the emperor, and that therefore he had no

lack of opportunity to broach the subject. Moreover, there was need for

urgency; they had just thrown a bridge across the Elbe and the emperor

had transferred his quarters to the other side of the river, a sure

sign of his approaching departure. To all which arguments on my part,

Chancellor Weinleben angrily replied: "The interests of princes are

discussed with minds at rest. Just look at the presumption of a simple

messenger. Wait till you are told to go and then go. Here, this is the

elector's reply. Take it, go, and leave me in peace."

I stopped at the first dense clump of trees in the wood, opened the

letter, and immediately turned my horse's head. "What do you want now?"

yelled the chancellor, when he caught sight of me. "Am I not to have

any peace from you?" "My gracious masters," I replied, "have authorized

me to open the letter of his Electoral Highness and to act in

consequence. The letter I have just read proves once more the brotherly

feelings of the elector, but as he is striking his tent, I think it

necessary respectfully to remind him of his generous assurances. I

shall wait for him at his leaving the emperor's presence, for I am

bound to bring back to Wolgast something more than vague words." At

this little speech the chancellor altered his tone. He ceased to

address me familiarly as "thou," and, in fact, made somewhat

exaggerated apologies, swearing by all his gods that in reality he had

not the faintest idea of the affair, but that henceforth he was my

staunch ally and that his master should not leave the emperor without

ardently pleading the cause of our princes.

When the elector went to the imperial tent I followed him at a

distance, and the moment he got into the saddle again I galloped on his

track, for I foresaw his departure for Berlin. I was just at the head

of the bridge of boats, which was entirely unprovided with parapets or

barriers, when I espied coming from the opposite side a heavy cart.

Time was precious. I pursue my quarry, and my right stirrup catches in

the wheel and my valiant mount, in spite of its prancing and rearing,

cannot extricate itself, or even hold its own against four strong

draught horses. There is no room to turn, and there seems not even a

possibility of saving myself by sacrificing the animal; both it and I

seem inevitably doomed to perish by drowning. As for any human help, I

do not as much as expect it. Even if they could have assisted me, the

Spaniards at the end of the bridge would have been particularly careful

not to do so. Just fancy their delight at seeing a German making a

plunge with his horse into the Elbe; the sight would have been too

delightful willingly to forego it.

When our distress is at its height, when neither our father nor our

mother is able to save us, Providence stretches forth his protecting

hand. It happened then, by this merciful grace; the rotten strap

suddenly gave way, leaving the stirrup entangled in the wheel and

freeing my leg. It was a startling confirmation of the Divine word that

the righteous shall see good come out of evil; for had the equipment

been brand-new, of the most solid leather and even embroidered with

gold and pearls, that harness would have sent me into the stream as

food for the fishes.

At last I managed to join the elector. He sent me word that the

opportunity for interceding with the emperor in behalf of the princes

of Pomerania had not presented itself, but that the counsellors he left

behind with the emperor would look to the affair and keep the dukes

informed of everything. Why had I not gone to the bottom of the Elbe?

In the camp itself the tale went round that the King of the Romans,

Duke Maurice, and after them, the emperor had made a very careful

inspection of the church of the Castle of Willemberg, having been led

to believe (the emperor and the king especially) that lamps and wax

tapers were constantly burning day and night on Luther's tomb, and that

prayers were said there just as in the Romish churches before the

relics of the saints.

At Treuenbrietzen I made my report to Chancellor Citzewitz. As he was

awaiting the arrival of the Pomeranian counsellors who were to

accompany the emperor to Halle, he sent me to retain quarters and to

give notice to the Brunswicker captain, Werner Hahn, to have twenty

horsemen ready at Bitterfeld on June 12. On the morning of the 12th, in

fact, the mission alighted at the general hostelry outside Bitterfeld.

The captain of the husard-escort had, however, given the preference to

an inn in the town. Seeing no sign of the Brunswickers, the counsellors

put up their carriage, so that the captain at his return was under the

impression that the mission was gone, and meeting with the horsemen,

ordered them to face about, he being convinced that the deputies had

taken another route.

Evening was drawing near; my business was finished, the quarters had

been retained, the supper ordered, and the beds ready. I had taken

advantage of the opportunity to renew my wardrobe, and, with my new

clothes on, I took a stroll outside the gates through which the mission

had to pass. Espying from the top of a mound a troop of advancing

horsemen, I went back in hot haste afraid of a reprimand. At the same

moment two Spanish bandits, half-naked, for their rags scarcely covered

them, ran after me across the fields, the one on foot, the other on a

kind of wretched farmer's cob--apparently stolen--and with a pistol at

the saddle bow. Casting a careful look round to assure themselves that

there were no witnesses to their contemplated deed, one had already

raised his pistol when the Brunswicker horsemen arrived on the spot.

"_Sunt isti ex tua parte?_" he asked. "_Senior, si_," I quickly

answered. "Ah, landsknecht, landsknecht," he said, replacing his

weapon, and followed by his companion, making off as fast as he could.

The adventures of that evening were, however, not at an end. I found

the gates of the town shut, and a trumpeter galloping along the walls

and blowing with all his might. I had not the faintest idea of what it

all meant, when the captain of husards appeared upon the spot,

recognizes, and hails me. "What are you doing here, and what has

happened?" he asked. "Why are the gates shut, and why is the alarm

being sounded?" While confessing my total ignorance, I began to ask

about the ambassadors; thereupon great surprise of the captain at their

being waited for. The matter seemed all the more strange to him in that

he on the road fell in with some Spanish horsemen, who told him that

they had been sent to meet a mission. What if our counsellors should

have been attacked by these people, decoyed into the wood, and

plundered? Of course, I felt very anxious to inform the Brunswicker

captain, so that he might send a reconnoitring party in the direction

of Bitterfeld. Finally, the noise ceased in the town, and the gates

were reopened. I immediately reported matters to W. Hahn, who in the

early morning sent out his horsemen. An hour afterwards there appeared

upon the scene Abraham Gatzkow, the same gentleman from Lower Pomerania

who had been instructed to keep a fresh horse for me for the last stage

from Brandenburg-the-Old to the camp at Wittenberg. The envoys had sent

him on in front, impatient to know why the escort had failed to appear

at the appointed spot, a mishap which prejudiced them against me.

Odd to relate, neither Sleidan nor Beuter mentions the alarm to which I

referred just now; hence, some further particulars will not be deemed

superfluous. Nothing is more frequent in the army and less easy to

prevent than the stealing of horses. If an animal takes your fancy,

some scoundrel is ready to get it for you for a matter of six or eight

crowns. If you keep it six or eight weeks elsewhere, so as to change

its habits, and change its tail, its mane and other peculiarities, you

may safely bring it back to the camp. A certain German gentleman

proceeded in that way with the stallion of a Spaniard; he sent it away

to his estates. When the affair had been forgotten the animal

reappeared. It so happened that the German horsemen (eight squadrons at

the lowest computation) encamped in the middle of a delightful plain,

watered by the Saale, while the whole of the infantry of their nation

was quartered in the town; a providential circumstance, for if the foot

had come to the aid of the horse, there would have been nothing short

of a massacre. The emperor, therefore, was well inspired in ordering at

once the closing of all the gates.

The Spaniards occupied the height around the castle. At dusk, when

taking the horses to be watered, a Spanish lad recognizes the stallion,

cries out that it belongs to his master and wants to lead it away. The

young German groom resists, and is supported by three or four of his

countrymen. The Spaniard rallies a dozen, and the German immediately

finds himself at the head of a score. The two parties increase every

minute, and the first shots are fired. Posted on the heights, the

Spaniards have the advantage of the position, their balls going through

the walls of the tents, kill several gentlemen who are seated at table;

the Germans give as good as they get. A Spanish lord issues from the

town with words of peace from the emperor; he has magnificent golden

chains round his neck and is riding a superb animal. At the sight of

him there is a general cry: "Fire on the dog of a Spaniard." He

advances, nevertheless, on the bridge, but a projectile brings down his

mount, which rolls into the Saale, and is drowned there with his

master, the wearer of the beautiful collar. Nine days before this, at

Wittenberg, a rotten strap had, with the help of God, saved my life.

The gentleman covered with gold and dressed in velvet, on the other

hand, miserably perished.

The emperor, while all this was going on, sent the son of King

Ferdinand, the Archduke Maximilian (afterwards emperor). He felt

convinced that it would suffice to restore order, but the moment the

archduke opened his lips the Germans repeated the cry: "Down with the

Spaniard." The archduke was wounded in the right arm, which he wore

during several weeks in a black sling. The emperor himself had to come

forth. "Dear Germans," he said, "I know you to be without reproach. I

therefore ask you to be calm. You shall be indemnified fully and in

every respect, and on my Imperial word, to-morrow you shall see the

Spaniards strung up on the highest gibbets." This promise had the

effect of quieting the riot, and the gates were opened. The inquiry

having shown that the loss of the Germans amounted to eighteen grooms

or stablemen besides seven horses, and that of the opposing party to

not less than seventy men, the emperor, though professing to be ready

to make good the value of the horse and even to punish the Spaniards

according to his promise, expressed the hope that the Germans would

consider themselves sufficiently avenged, inasmuch as their adversaries

had suffered four times more than they had.

During the evening of June 19, the Electors of Saxony and Brandenburg

made their entry into Halle with the Landgrave Philip of Hesse in their

midst. At six in the afternoon of the next day the landgrave "made

honourable amends" in the great hall of the Imperial quarters in the

presence of the electors, princes, foreign potentates, ambassadors,

counts, colonels, captains, and in one word, of everybody who could

find room inside or catch a glimpse of the scene through the windows.

But while his chancellor, on his knees, close against him, humbly

craved pardon, Philip, ever inclined to raillery, smiled with an air of

bravado, and to such a degree as to make the emperor exclaim, while

threatening him with his outstretched index: "Go on; I'll teach you to

laugh." Alas, he kept his word.

Our counsellors decided to leave me behind incognito at the Imperial

camp with a gentleman of Lower Pomerania named George von Wedel, who

having murdered his cousin and having been exiled by Duke Barnim, had

entered the emperor's service with nine-and-twenty horse troopers. His

goodwill towards our mission and my instances finally got him his

pardon. That was how the horse on which I had left Wolgast was to carry

me as far as Augsburg.

Having started from Halle on June 20, the emperor stopped three days at

Naumberg. On the 24th, very early in the morning, he was at the general

headquarters at some distance beyond the wall. He wore a violet cap and

a black cloak trimmed with velvet several inches wide. Suddenly there

was a shower, and immediately the emperor sent for a hat and a grey

felt cloak to the town; but meanwhile he turned the cloak he wore and

kept his headdress under it. Poor man, who spent untold gold on the

war, and who stood bareheaded in the rain rather than spoil his

clothes.

The Spanish escort of the landgrave preceded his Imperial Majesty by a

day's march, and committed unheard-of excesses. Next morning the

corpses were strewn where the emperor passed. Women and girls suffered

the most terrible outrages; as for the men, after having suspended them

by their genital parts, the barbarians tortured them to make them

reveal the places where they had hidden their money, after which, with

one stroke of their swords, flush with the abdomen, they detached the

victim.

The emperor slept at Coburg, in Franconia. The German horsemen took up

their quarters in the adjacent villages. Every house was deserted, the

dwellings of the nobility as well as the peasant's farms; nowhere was

there a soul to be seen, for, having been sorely tried the previous day

by the passage of the Spaniards, the population dreaded renewed scenes

of horror. In one house we found a _membrum virile_; elsewhere,

stretched on a bed a bloodstained body, exactly in the condition in

which those abominable miscreants had put them one after the other. The

servants of Von Wedel dug a grave by my orders for the corpse and the

_membrum virile_.

Our first encampment after that was a village amidst fertile plains. I

unsaddled my horse in order to let it graze in peace until the morning.

In the same spot there was a handsome gentleman's dwelling, in its open

courtyard a wagon with four strong horses; on the wagon two barrels of

exquisite wine. Capons, poultry and pheasants were running about in all

directions. I leave people to imagine the massacre, and how, on our

return to our tent, we quickly plucked, boiled and roasted the game. We

were the absolute masters. There was nothing to fear; the granary was

full to overflowing, and we replenished our sacks to the very edge. In

short, horses, vehicle and wine, and everything else was carried away.

The barrels were emptied on our way; the team was sold at Nuremberg for

what it would bring, for we ourselves had had it very cheaply.

The sight of our plenty attracted the notice of Duke Frederick von

Liegnitz,[47] so we invited him to share it. Two joyous damsels in

gorgeous silk attire were of the party and performed their duty well.

The servants also shared in the feast which was prolonged till dawn.

The nights, however, were very short.

It was full daylight when, wishing to saddle my horse, I discovered it

had been stolen. Immediately, according to 'the usages and customs of

war, I chose the best nag at hand, currycombed, bridled and mounted it

in the space of a few minutes.

On July 1, towards midday, the emperor made his entry into Bamberg with

a numerous suite. The Elector of Saxony occupied a house on the outside

of the town on the right, just at the turn of the road, so that he

could watch the city and the country. The captive was at the window

just as his Imperial Majesty passed, mounted on a small Spanish horse.

He made a profound bow; thereupon the emperor burst out laughing

sarcastically, and stared at him as long as he could.

The Spaniards took with them from Bamberg four hundred women, girls and

female servants, and did not let them go until they reached Nuremberg.

The fathers, husbands and brothers followed in their wake; the father

looking for his daughter, the husband for his better half, the brother

for his sister; at Nuremberg each found his own again. Oh, those

Spaniards! What a nation, to dare do such things after the cessation of

hostilities, in a friendly country and under the very eyes of the

sovereign. The latter, however, displayed a relentless severity. Each

evening they put up a gibbet as well as his tent, and the former did

not remain long untenanted, but it was all in vain.

I suddenly came across my horse in a meadow near the Nuremberg gates. I

put my saddle on its back, and left the animal I had taken at Coburg.

His Majesty journeyed by small stages in consequence of the excessive

heat. The diet, in fact, was summoned only for September 1. This

slowness gave me the leisure to ride with George von Wedel on the flank

of the army, from its head to its tail. It was an interesting

spectacle, this mass of men under arms and in battle order; here

Germans, farther on Spaniards. In the evening we returned to our own.

Far from keeping to the highway, the soldiers marched straight in front

of them, making a roadway four times wider than the ordinary one,

upsetting all obstacles, knocking down enclosures and filling in moats

and ditches. One day the restive horse of George von Wedel insisted on

getting into the ranks of the Spanish, who could not or would not get

out of the way, and as the rider cried angrily: "Very well, let the

French kill thee, then," a half-drunken soldier, mistaking the words,

retorted: "_Senor mio, no soy Frances, mas soy un Espanol_." The

Spaniards, in fact, think themselves much superior to the French.

As we were getting near Nuremberg there was no longer any need for me

to hide myself. I took up my quarters at the hotel selected by Duke

Frederick von Liegnitz, at that period trying to interest the emperor

in his paternal affairs. That prince was never sober, and at the

refusal of his counsellors, he caroused with the suite of Margrave

Johannes.

One day the duke and six servitors of the margrave cut the right

sleeves out of their doublets and their shirts. With bare arms, their

hose undone so as to show their shirts, their heads uncovered, and list

slippers on their feet, the seven persons marched in single file behind

the town musicians, playing with all their might, and went after dinner

to the Duke Henry of Brunswick's. Prince Frederick held in one hand a

set of dice, and in the other a quantity of gold pieces; naturally the

crowd ran with them, the foreigners foremost, Italians and Spaniards

delighted to see "these sots of Germans" go by. The wine produced such

a strong effect that Liegnitz, on entering the apartment of the duke,

stumbled across the table, both hands foremost. There was only one dice

left, and not a trace of the gold. He was unable to utter a syllable,

and dropped on the floor. Four Brunswick gentlemen carried him to a bed

on the story above. The emperor, it is said, was very angry at the

Germans making such a show of themselves.

It would be a mistake to conclude that Prince Frederick's education had

been neglected, for only a few days beforehand, though he had also been

drinking, I was quite surprised at the many stories of the Old

Testament he narrated without quoting the sacred text; he even applied

some of them very ingenuously to his own situation. Certainly there can

be nothing surpassing a careful education, provided the Holy Spirit

guides the young man when he becomes responsible for his own acts; that

is what we ought to pray for to the Almighty.

As for the consequences of drunkenness, that inexhaustible fount of

many sins, the Duke von Liegnitz was a terrible example of them. One

night when he could no longer find some one in the humour to "keep up

with him," he came to my door, trying to beguile me out of my bed. I

finally told him that to sit drinking at such an hour was beyond my

strength, and that I humbly begged his Serene Highness to husband both

our healths. He resigned himself, though reluctantly, to take "no" for

an answer. I took good care not to open.

After a fortnight's stay, the emperor left Nuremberg. Duke Frederick

was so matutinal on the day of departure that on arriving about six

o'clock at the Imperial residence, he was told the emperor had been

gone for at least two hours. Not daring to follow the sovereign, he

merely sent two counsellors to Augsburg.

I had bought at Nuremberg a handsome rapier which I wore with a Spanish

belt. One morning after breakfast, being alone, I fell asleep in my

chair. When I awoke I found that a skilful thief had cleverly

unfastened it and carried it away. I bought another weapon, and when I

had settled my bill, saddled my horse and made for Augsburg, where I

landed three days before the emperor.

Prince Frederick went back to his own country with his suite; he never

improved. Two students were returning to their homes; _en route_ they

breakfast at Liegnitz, and feeling jovial and gay they started singing.

The duke, who was in his cups, was annoyed at the noise, had them

apprehended, conducted outside the town, and beheaded. Next morning,

before recommencing his libations, he took a ride with some of his

counsellors in the direction of the place of execution. At the sight of

the blood he begins to ask questions, and is informed that the executed

men are the two students he sentenced the previous day. "What had they

done?" he asked in the greatest surprise.

At the end of one of his orgies he ordered his counsellors to lock him

up in prison on bread and water. If they disobeyed him they would

answer with their heads. The dungeon already held several occupants.

His Highness was taken to it, and the gaoler received the strictest

instructions. When the fumes of his wine had vanished, the duke, in a

livelier mood, conversed for a while with the other prisoners; then he

shouted to the warder to let him out. "I am too strictly forbidden to

do so," was the answer. He, nevertheless, went to inform the

counsellors; the latter delayed for three days, during which time the

prince left not a moment respite to the turnkeys. Finally, the

counsellors came themselves; they heard his shouting and his

supplications, but they remembered his threat to have their heads off,

and they knew that on that subject he did not jest. He had to reassure

them over and over again before he was allowed to go free.

Three years later the same prince journeyed to Stettin for no other

purpose than to have a drinking bout with some of the courtiers. At the

news of his coming, Duke Barnim went away with everybody except the

women. At his arrival the visitor found neither the duke nor any

gentlemen of the least standing, and at the castle they sent him into

the town to a house assigned to him as his quarters. An old man lay

dying there, and they naturally expected that this would shorten

Liegnitz's visit. The very opposite happened. The prince comfortably

settled himself at the dying man's bedside, recited passages from the

Scriptures to him until his last moment, and closed his eyes when the

breath was out of him. The collector Valentin presenting himself, poor

box in hand, the duke dropped a few crowns into it; after this, he sent

for mourning cloth for two cloaks, one for himself, one for Valentin,

with whom, he said, he wished to accompany the corpse to the cemetery.

The duchess, however, would not hear of this. He was therefore

quartered in the castle, just above the chancellerie, and opposite the

women's quarters, so that they could converse from one window to

another. I had been to the kitchen. As I was crossing the courtyard,

the duke, passing his head out of the window and making a speaking

trumpet of his hands, shouted with all his might to me: "Hi-there!" I

knew him from Nuremberg, and was consequently familiar with the manner

of treating him, so I answered: "Hello!" at which he was delighted.

"What a nice fellow," he cried. "For heaven's sake, come up; we'll keep

each other company, and try to enliven each other." I thanked him

humbly and continued my way.

Duke Barnim's absence being somewhat prolonged, his guest Liegnitz had

eventually to think about going. The princely presents of the duchess

made him comfortable for some time. Health, welfare, country, were all

ruined by his roystering conduct. When drink had killed him, his wife,

a Duchess of Mecklenburg, saw herself and her children reduced to the

direst privation. She had to inform not only her equals, but the

magistrates of Stralsund of her distress, and to declare herself unable

to bring up her son according to his rank. She merely asked for slight

help, scarcely more than alms. The council of Stralsund sent her a few

crowns by one of the messengers she dispatched in all directions.

[Illustration: The Diet of Augsburg. _From an old Engraving_.]

CHAPTER II

A Twelve Months' Stay at Augsburg during the Diet--Something about

the Emperor and Princes--Sebastian Vogelsberg--Concerning the

Interim--Journey to Cologne

On July 27, 1547, I dismounted at an inn in the wine market at

Augsburg. The host was a person of consideration, and endowed with good

sense; he was a master of one of the corporations. The latter had

administered the city's affairs for more than a century. During a

similar number of years the corporations of Nuremberg had ceded their

power in that respect to the patricians. The Augsburg corporations,

being Evangelicals, had sided against the emperor; consequently His

Imperial Majesty proposed to exclude them at the forthcoming Diet from

the government, in favour of the aristocracy, which had remained

faithful to the ancient faith.

I took two rooms (each with an alcove, or sleeping closet, attached to

it), of which the host had no need for his travelling patrons. The

ambassadors settled in one; the other was set apart for their

administration, which was composed of Jacob Citzewitz, chancellor; two

secretaries of Duke Barnim, and myself. I sold my horse with its

equipment, which was not worth much. I took what I could get for it;

fodder was very dear, and the animal was no longer of the least use to

me.

The emperor and his army arrived at the end of July. The landgrave

remained behind at Donauwerth, under the guard of a Spanish detachment,

while the elector, brought to Augsburg, took up his quarters with the

Welsers, two houses away from the Imperial residence, and on the other

side of a kind of alley by the side of my inn. A passage made between

these two houses by means of a bridge thrown over the alley provided

communication between the apartments of his Imperial Majesty and those

of the elector. The captive prince had his own kitchens. His

chancellor, Von Monkwitz, was always near him; he was served by his own

attendants, so that the Spaniards had no pretext to enter his room or

his sleeping closet. The Duke of Alva and other gentlemen of the

Imperial suite constantly kept him company; the time was spent in

pleasant conversations and equally agreeable recreations. They had

arranged a list for the jousts in the courtyard of the dwelling, which

was as superb a mansion as any royal one. The elector went out on

horseback to the beautiful sites and spots of the town, namely, the

various gardens, cultivated with much art. He had been very fond from

his youth of swordplay, and while he remained well and active he

indulged in all kinds of martial exercise. They therefore left him to

superintend the assaults at arms, but he did not stir without an escort

of Spanish soldiers. He was left free to read what he pleased, except

in the latter days, namely, after his refusal to accept the Interim.

At Donauwerth, on the other hand, the landgrave had a guard even in his

own apartment. If he looked out of the window two Spaniards craned

their necks by his side. Drums and fifes told him of the guard coming

on duty and of the guard that was being relieved. Armed sentries

watched in the prisoner's room; they were relieved once during the

night, and when those coming on duty entered the room, the others, when

the shrill music had ceased, drew the curtains of the bed aside,

saying: "We commit him to your care. Keep a good watch." The emperor's

words to the landgrave, "I'll teach you to laugh," were not an empty

threat.

Before retiring to rest, his Imperial Majesty, to the terror of many,

had a gibbet erected in front of the town hall; by the side of the

gibbet, the strapado, and, facing it, a scaffold at about an ordinary

man's height from the ground. This was intended to hold the rack, and

the beheading, the strangulating, the quartering, and kindred

operations were to be carried out on it.

The emperor had sent to Spain for his secretary, a grandee, it will be

seen directly, who stood high in his favour. As the said secretary

sailed down the Elbe, coming from Torgau, a faithful subject of the

captive elector hid himself in a wood on the bank of the stream. He was

a skilful arquebusier, and when the craft was well within range, he

fired a shot. They brought the emperor a corpse. The mortal remains of

the secretary were taken to Spain in a handsome coffin; the murderer

fled across Hungary in the direction of Turkey, but active pursuit

resulted in his capture, and he was dispatched to Augsburg. He was

driven in an open cart from St. Ulrich to the town hall, by way of the

wine market. Hence, the elector had the extreme annoyance of seeing him

pass under his windows. The condemned man had between his knees a pole,

to which his right hand was tied as high as possible. In the midst of

the drive, the sword severed the wrist from the arm; hemorrhage was

prevented by dressing the wound, and the hand was nailed to a post put

up in the street for the purpose. In front of the town hall the poor

wretch was taken from the cart and was put on the rack.

The landsknechten quartered at Augsburg had not received their pay for

several months. It was to come out of the fines imposed upon the

landgrave and the towns. The rumour ran that the fines had been paid,

but that the Duke of Alva had lost the money gaming with the elector,

so that the troops were still waiting.

In the thick of all this, a number of soldiers made their way into the

rooms of the ensigns, carrying off three standards, unfurling them, and

marching in battle array to the wine market. Near the spot where the

arquebusier had had his hand severed from his wrist, a proud Spaniard,

impelled by the mad hope of securing the Imperial favour by rendering

his name for ever glorious, flung himself into the advancing ranks and

tried to get hold of a standard; behind it, however, marched three men

with big swords, and one of these split the intruder in two just as he

would have split a turnip. "_Qui amat periculum, peribit in eo_." Thus

it is written.

Roused to great excitement by the coming of the column, the Spanish

soldiers promptly occupied the streets adjoining the market. The

elector was transferred to the Imperial quarters, lest he should be

carried off. The population were getting afraid of being pillaged in

case the idea of paying themselves should present itself to the

landsknechten. The tradesmen were more uneasy than the rest, for in

expectation of the coming Diet their shops were crammed with precious

wares, rich silk stuffs, golden and silvern objects, diamonds and

pearls. There was an indescribable tumult to the accompaniment of cries

and people foregathering in knots, though most of them barricaded

themselves in their houses and armed themselves with pikes, muskets, or

anything they could lay hands on. In short, as Sleidan expresses it,

"the day bade fair to be spent in armed alarm."

The emperor sent to ask the mercenaries what they wanted. "Money or

blood," replied the arquebusiers, their weapons reposing on the left

arm, the lighted match in their right hands, and dangerously near the

vent-hole. His Imperial Majesty promised them their arrears within

twenty-four hours, but before dispersing they claimed impunity for what

they had done, which demand the emperor granted. Next day they received

their pay and were disbanded at the same time.

Now for the end of the adventure. Secret orders were given to accompany

the ringleaders on their road, and at the first offensive remark on

their part with regard to the emperor to call in armed assistance, and

to bring them back to Augsburg. As a consequence, at the end of two or

three days, some of the firebrands, having their wallets well-lined and

sitting round frequently re-filled flagons at the inn, began to hold

forth without more reserve than if they were on the territory of

Prester John. The last thought in their minds was about informers being

among them. "We'll give him soldiers for nothing--this Charles of

Ghent![48] May the quartan fever get hold of him. We'll teach him how

to behave. May the lightning blast him," and so forth. Not for long

though. The words had scarcely left their lips than they were seized,

taken to Augsburg, and hanged in front of the town hall, each with a

little flag fluttering from the tab of their small clothes.

[Illustration: An Execution at the Time of the Reformation. _From a

Drawing by_ Lucas Cranach.]

Two Spaniards, probably guilty of robbery, as was their custom, were

strung up at the same gibbet. Towards night the hangman came with his

cart, cut the ropes and took the bodies of the seditious men outside

the town. After which there appeared a gang of Spaniards who, with more

ceremony, detached their countrymen, and placed them in a bier covered

with a kind of white linen. Then they spread the funeral cloth over

them, and the procession started. Young scholars dressed in white

cloaks marched at its head, intoning psalms; the rest, in handsome

dresses and carrying lighted tapers, followed two by two. They

proceeded in that manner to the church given up to the Spaniards for

their worship, where the two bodies were buried. It is difficult to

withhold solemn funerals from thieves when you yourself are an

incorrigible thief.

The Italian and Spanish troops were distributed in the towns of the

Algau and Swabia. Memmingen and Kempten compounded their liability

to quarter them respectively for thirty thousand and twenty thousand

florins. Thereupon a certain Imperial commissioner hit upon the

idea of presenting himself in various towns as having been instructed

to quarter a couple of hundred Spaniards for the winter. The

terror-stricken burghers implored him to spare them such a scourge, and

considered themselves only too happy to present the commissioner with a

little gratification of two, three, and four hundred crowns, paid on

the nail. Thanks to that ingenious system, the commissioner managed to

pocket some important sums. But the rumour of the thing having reached

the emperor's ears, the cheat was arrested, sentenced to death, and

executed in front of the town hall at Augsburg. The work of the hangman

began by strangulation. The patient (?) was placed on a wooden seat

against the rail of the scaffold, his forehead tightly bound in case of

convulsions, his arms bound behind his back, and fastened to the

balustrade. The hangman, after having flung a rather short rope round

his neck, slipped a thick stick down his nape, and began to twist it

round in the manner they press bales of wares. When the wretch was

strangled, he was undressed except his shirt, laid out on a board, the

hangman lifted the shirt, cut away the sexual parts, ripped open the

body from bottom to top, removed the intestines, and threw them into a

pail under the board, and finally cut the body into four quarters.

George von Wedel stayed at my hotel. He invited the Duke of Brunswick

and his steward to dinner, and chose me as the third guest. The repast

consisted of six courses; the first was soup with a capon in it. I know

that our landlady paid a crown for the bird, and that she charged Wedel

a crown per head. I did not forget to mention to my host and my fellow

guests that at Rome I had seen the hanging of the Spaniard, his

servants, and the two Jews. The duke was delighted at my recollecting

this, and he himself reminded us that the banquet had been given in his

honour. His account of the story was, however, much longer than mine.

While awaiting the arrival of the Pomeranian delegates, I borrowed

two hundred crowns of the captive Elector of Saxony, for my functions

at the Diet necessitated a decent appearance, considering that

I was called upon to confer with grand personages, such as the

Vice-Chancellor Seld, the Bishop of Arras and Dr. Johannes Marquardt,

Imperial counsellor. Besides, everything was horribly dear at Augsburg;

there was no possibility of getting along without money. Our

ambassadors arrived on St. Matthew's Day (September 21). I immediately

refunded the two hundred crowns.

Since we left Wittenberg I had never missed an opportunity of speaking

to the Imperial counsellors and advisers, sometimes to one, then to

another. More than once, for instance, I happened to be riding by the

side of the Bishop of Arras, _intimus consiliarius imperatoris_. I

solicited his intervention for a safe-conduct for our princes, in order

that they might come and plead their cause in person, or be represented

by some high dignitaries. The kindly tone of his answers afforded me

much hope, although he abstained from all positive promises.

One evening between Nuremberg and Augsburg chance made me alight at the

hostelry where Lazarus von Schwendi was putting up.[49] At that time he

was a beardless young man. We supped together, and he declared quite

spontaneously that, having been sent by the emperor to the Brandenburg

march as far as the Pomeranian frontiers to get information about the

attitude of the dukes during the late war, he had not been able to find

the slightest charge against them. He further stated that he had

written to that effect to the emperor, and he announced his intention

of repeating it to him by word of mouth.

In spite of this evidence, when I saw the Bishop of Arras, his father,

Messire de Granvelle, the most trusty adviser of his Imperial Majesty,

Dr. Seld and Dr. Marquardt at Augsburg, they seemed to vie with each

other at looking askance at me, and at formulating a refusal in hard,

haughty terms and entirely unexpected by me; such as: "_Bannus

decernetur contra principes tuos_."[50]

Our dukes sent their principal advisers. To do them justice, they

spared neither time nor trouble, but it was all in vain, for the Bishop

of Arras went as far as to growl at them: "To suppose the emperor

capable of punishing innocent people as your princes pretend to be;

that alone already constitutes the crime of treason against the

sovereign, and deserves chastisement." His Imperial Majesty closed his

ears to the truth; he was determined to act against the Dukes of

Pomerania. At Wittenberg Dr. Seld had said to me: "We are going to

examine the challenge of Ingoldstadt and will note for reference its

instances of audacity, its offensive expressions, and its provocations.

His Imperial Majesty means to show to the whole of the empire that he

is neither deficient in German blood nor in power to chastize as he

thinks fit no matter whom." This was an allusion to the following

passage of the document defying him: "And we inform Charles that we

consider him a traitor to his duty to God, a perjurer towards us, and

the German nation, and deserving the Divine punishment, and also as too

devoid of noble and German blood to carry out his threats."

Our ambassadors paid daily visits to the important ecclesiastical

personages. They went in couples, save Chancellor Citzewitz, who

considered himself, not unjustly, capable of dispensing with

assistance. He laboured, however, under the disadvantage of "repeating

himself," and of wearying his listeners. The chancellor of the Elector

of Cologne, to whom Citzewitz paid a visit one night, said the next day

to two of our ambassadors: "What is your chancellor thinking of? He

constantly repeats the same things. Does he credit me with so short a

memory as to forget in three or four days the _status causae vestrorum

principum_, or does he imagine that our affairs leave me sufficient

leisure to listen to his never ending litanies. He reminds me of a hen

about to lay. At first she flutters to the top of the open barn door,

clucking, 'An egg, an egg.' Then she gets a little higher up to the

hay-loft: 'An egg, an egg; I want to lay an egg.' From there she goes

up to the rafters: 'Look out, friends, look out. I am going to lay an

egg.' Finally, when she has cackled to her heart's content, she goes

back to her nest and produces the tiniest imaginable egg. I prefer the

goose who squats silently on the dung-heap and lays an egg as big as a

child's head."

The Archbishop of Cologne would not forgive our princes for having

secularized the monastery of Neu-Camp, a branch of the parent

institution of Alt-Camp, in the diocese of Cologne. Besides, the clergy

of Pomerania had become suspect to him ever since its choice for the

See of Cammin had fallen upon the pious, able and learned chancellor

Bartholomew Schwabe. Hence, the terms in which the emperor forbade our

princes to recognize the new dignitary as such were the reverse of

courteous, and he moreover summoned the chapters to Augsburg to take

the oath of fidelity and do homage, pending his own selection of a

chief for them. The princes, the chapters, the landed gentry, and the

towns, with the exception of Colberg, appealed; the Pomeranian mission

was entrusted with the negotiations; the States also delegated Martin

Weyer, canon of Cammin, who subsequently became a bishop.

Nor was the Elector of Brandenburg in the emperor's good books. Where

then could we find somebody successfully to intercede for us? All my

supplications were in vain, for at courts and in large towns _causae

perduntur quae paupertate reguntur_. Finally, Dr. Marquardt hinted

discreetly that a well trained small horse would be very useful to him

to proceed to the council, according to Imperial etiquette. I

immediately wrote to Pomerania, whence they sent me a pretty animal,

with instructions to buy an equipment to match. The present,

supplemented by three "Portuguese,"[51] seemed to please the doctor

mightily, and he accepted everything without much persuasion.

The melting of double ducats and Rhenish florins gave us some excellent

gold of crown standard, which served to make two cups, each weighing

seven marks. Citzewitz took them several times to Messire de Granvelle

without finding the opportunity of offering them to him. These were

indeed untimely scruples. That present, or even one of double its

value, would no more have been refused then than it was later on at

Brussels. In fact, in return for his friendly offices with the emperor,

Granvelle willingly submitted to be presented with gold, silver, and

precious objects, so that at his departure there were several vans and

numerous mules laden with them. When he was asked what were the

contents of that long convoy, he answered: "_Peccata Germaniae_!"

After many fruitless efforts our ambassadors found themselves reduced

to inactivity, and compelled as a pastime to read two Latin pamphlets

they received. The one dealt with the personality and acts of "_Carolus

Quintus_"; the title of the other was, "_De horum temporum statu_,"

with Pasquin and Marforio as interlocutors in Roman fashion.

There were ten flag-companies of landsknechten quartered at Augsburg,

besides the Spaniards and Germans accompanying the emperor, while the

outskirts held Spanish and Italian fighting men. Six hundred horsemen

from the Low Countries and more than twelve flag-companies of

Spaniards, who had been quartered during the winter at Biberach, were

posted on the shores of Lake Constance; seven hundred Neapolitan

horsemen, who had wintered at Wissemburg, lay in the Nordgau. The days,

therefore, were truly spent in "armed alarm," but there was also

extraordinary splendour, pomp, and magnificence.

Augsburg, in fact, had the honour of having within its walls his

Imperial Majesty, his Royal Majesty, all the electors in person, with

imposing suites; the Elector of Brandenburg with his wife; the Cardinal

of Trent, Duke Heindrich of Brunswick and his two sons, Charles Victor

and Philip; Margrave Albert; Duke Wolfgang, count palatine; Duke

Augustus; Duke Albert of Bavaria; the Duke of Cleves; Herr Wolfgang,

grand master of the Teutonic Order; the Bishop of Eichstedt; his Grace

of Naumberg, Julius Pflug; Abbe Weingarten; Madame Marie, the sister of

the emperor, who was accompanied by her niece, the Dowager of Lorraine;

the wife of the margrave; the Duchess of Bavaria, and the envoys of the

foreign potentates. The King of Denmark was represented by a learned

and prudent man, who had given proof of his wisdom in many a mission,

namely, Petrus Suavenius, the same who had accompanied Luther to Worms

and had returned with him. The King of Poland was represented by

Stanislas Lasky, a magnificent, experienced, learned, eloquent and

elegant, amiable, great magnate, and most charming _in familiari

colloquio_.

[Illustration: Ferdinand the First. _From an old Print._]

It is almost impossible to enumerate the crowd of vicars, counts and

other personages of note, but I must not forget the Jew Michael, who

aped the great lord, and showed himself off on horseback in gorgeous

clothes, golden chains round his neck, and escorted by ten or a dozen

servants, all Jews, but who might have fairly passed muster as horse

troopers. Michael himself had an excellent appearance; he was said to

be the son of one of the counts of Rheinfeld. The old hereditary

Marshal von Pappenheim, who had grown very short-sighted, came up with

him one day, and, not content with taking off his hat, made him a low

bow, as to a superior. When he discovered his mistake, he vented his

anger very loudly: "May the lightning blast you, you big scoundrel of a

Jew," he bellowed. The presence of so many princesses, countesses and

other noble dames, handsome, and attired in a way that baffles my

powers of description, afforded daily opportunities for banquets, Welch

and German dances. King Ferdinand was rarely without guests. He gave

magnificent receptions, splendid ballets, and beautiful concerts by a

numerous and well trained band of vocal and instrumental performers.

Behind the king's chair there stood a chattering jester; his master had

frequent "wit combats" with him. The king kept up the conversation at

table, and his tongue was never still for a moment. One evening I saw

at his reception, a Spanish gentleman, with a cloak reaching to his

heels, dancing an "algarda" or "passionesa" (I do not know the meaning

of either word) with a young damsel. They both jumped very high,

advancing and retreating, without ceasing to face each other. It was

most charming. After that another couple performed a Welch dance.

The emperor, on the contrary, far from giving the smallest banquet,

kept nobody near him; neither his sister, nor his brother, nor his

nieces, nor the Duchess of Bavaria, nor the electors, nor any of the

princes. After church, when he reached his apartments, he dismissed his

courtiers, giving his hand to everybody. He had his meals by himself,

without speaking a word to his attendants. One day, returning from

church, he noticed the absence of Carlowitz. "_Ubi est noster

Carlovitius?_" he asked of Duke Maurice. "Most gracious emperor,"

replied the latter, "he feels somewhat feeble." Immediately the emperor

turned to his physician. "Vesalius, gy zult naar Carlowitz gaan, die

zal iets wat ziek zyn, ziet dat gy hem helpt." (Anglice, "You had

better go and see Carlowitz. He is not well; you may be able to do

something for him.")

I have often been present (at Spires, at Worms, at Augsburg, and at

Brussels) at the emperor's dinner. He never invited his brother, the

king. Young princes and counts served the repast. There were invariably

four courses, consisting altogether of six dishes. After having placed

the dishes on the table, these pages took the covers off. The emperor

shook his head when he did not care for the particular dish; he bowed

his head when it suited, and then drew it towards him. Enormous

pasties, large pieces of game, and the most succulent dishes were

carried away, while his Majesty ate a piece of roast, a slice of a

calf's head, or something analogous. He had no one to carve for him; in

fact, he made but a sparing use of the knife. He began by cutting his

bread in pieces large enough for one mouthful, then attacked his dish.

He stuck his knife anywhere, and often used his fingers while he held

the plate under his chin with the other hand. He ate so naturally, and

at the same time so cleanly, that it was a pleasure to watch him. When

he felt thirsty, he only drank three draughts; he made a sign to the

_doctores medicinae_ standing by the table; thereupon they went to the

sideboard for two silver flagons, and filled a crystal goblet which

held about a measure and a half. The emperor drained it to the last

drop, practically at one draught, though he took breath two or three

times. He did, however, not utter a syllable, albeit that the jesters

behind him were amusing. Now and again there was a faint smile at some

more than ordinarily clever passage between them. He paid not the

slightest attention to the crowd that came to watch the monarch eat.

The numerous singers and musicians he kept performed in church, and

never in his apartment. The dinner lasted less than an hour, at the

termination of which, tables, seats, and everything else were removed,

there remaining nothing but the four walls hung with magnificent

tapestry. After grace they handed the emperor the quills of feathers

wherewith to clean his teeth. He washed his hands and took his seat in

one of the window recesses. There, everybody could go up and speak to

him, or hand a petition, and argue a question. The emperor decided

there and then. The future emperor Maximilian was more assiduously by

the side of the emperor than by that of his father.

Duke Maurice soon made acquaintance with the Bavarian ladies, and at

his own quarters melancholy found no place, for he lodged with a doctor

of medicine who was the father of a girl named Jacqueline, a handsome

creature if ever there was one. She and the duke bathed together and

played cards every day with Margrave Albrecht.[52] One day, the latter,

thinking he was going to have the best of the game, ventured several

crowns. "Very well," answered the damsel; "equal stakes. Mine against

yours." "Put down your money," retorted the margrave, "and the better

player wins." All this in plain and good German, while Jacqueline gave

him her most charming smile. Such was their daily mode of life. The

town gossiped about it, but the devil himself was bursting with

pleasure.

Clerics or laymen, every one among those notable personages did as he

pleased. I myself have seen young Margrave Albrecht, as well as other

young princes, drinking and playing "truc" with certain bishops of

their own age, but of inferior birth.[53] At such moments they made

very light of titles. The margrave cried abruptly; "Your turn, priest.

I'll wager your stroke isn't worth a jot." The bishop was often still

more coarse, inviting his opponent to accompany him outside to perform

a natural want. The young princes squatted down by the side of the

noblest dames on the floor itself, for there were neither forms nor

chairs; merely a magnificent carpet in the middle of the room,

exceedingly comfortable to stretch one's self at full length upon. One

may easily imagine the kissing and cuddling that was going on.[54]

Both princes and princesses spent their incomes in banquets of

unparalleled splendour. They arrived with their money caskets full to

overflowing, but in a little while they were compelled to take many a

humiliating step in order to obtain loans; the rates were ruinous, but

anything, rather than leave Augsburg defeated and humbled in their love

of display. Several sovereigns, among others the Duke of Bavaria, had

received from their subjects thousands of dollars as "play money." They

lost every penny of it.

Our ambassadors lived very retired. They neither invited nor were

invited; nevertheless, when a visitor came, they were bound to offer a

collation, and to amuse their guests. One day they entertained Jacob

Sturm of Strasburg.[55] During dinner the conversation turned on

Cammin. Sturm gave us the history of that bishopric, of its foundation,

of its expansion. Then he told us of the ancient prerogatives of the

Dukes of Pomerania; of the negotiations set on foot seven years before

at the diet of Ratisbon. In short, it was as lucid, as complete, and as

accurate a summary of the subject as if he had just finished studying

it. Our counsellors greatly admired his wonderful memory. Verily, he

was a superior, experienced, eloquent, and prudent man, who had had his

share in many memorable days from an Imperial as well as from a

provincial view; for, in spite of his heresy, the emperor had at

various times entrusted him with important missions. Without him,

Sleidan could have never written his History. He avows it frankly, and

renders homage to Sturm in many passages of his _Commentaries_. Nobody

throughout the empire realized to the same degree as he the motto:

"_Usus me genuit, mater me peperit memoria_." A person of note having

asked him if the towns of the League of Schmalkalden were all at peace

with the emperor, he answered: "_Constantia tantum desideratur_."[56]

It would be impossible better to express both the isolation of

Constance and the mistake to which the Protestants owed their reverses.

Should my children have a desire to know what Sturm was like facially,

they will only have to look at my portrait, which bears such a

remarkable resemblance to him as to have baffled Apelles to improve

upon it.[57] Our ambassadors also received the visits of Musculus and

Lepusculus, but each came by himself. The moment for serious debate had

struck, for the Interim was being gradually drawn up. The time for

jesting had gone by; the only thing to do was to get at the root of

matters.[58]

I sometimes brought my countryman, friend, and co-temporary Valerius

Krakow home with me. He was secretary to Carlowitz, and, excluded as

they were from all negotiations, our counsellors were glad to learn

from his lips what was being plotted. During the campaign he had not

stirred from the side of Carlowitz, who, in reward for his services,

had got him into the chancellerie of Prince Maurice. Another countryman

of mine who came to see us was the traban Simon Plate, one of my old

acquaintances, for we had pursued our studies together more or less

usefully at Greifswald, under George Normann. The counsellors did not

care for him, for he was of no earthly use to them. The trabans had

some respectable, honest, well set-up and plucky fellows in their

ranks, and enjoyed a certain amount of consideration. The emperor was

particular about their dress; they wore black velvet doublets, cloaks

with large bands of velvet, and the Spanish head-dress of the same

material.

Plate was never tired of praising his fellow-soldier sleeping next to

him, and the ambassadors gave him leave to bring his friend. He wore a

most beautiful golden chain. Plate had not exaggerated. Finally he even

took umbrage at the favour shown to the new comer, so that one day he

exclaimed: "No doubt he is very upright and honest. He has shown his

courage, consequently he pleases the emperor. It is a pity, though,

that he is not a gentleman by birth." The remark, I am bound to say,

displeased our ambassadors greatly, and above all Chancellor Citzewitz;

but let my children look to it. I have heard many Pomeranian nobles

hold the same language. According to them, intelligence, sound judgment

and ability were the exclusive appanage of birth.

Plate showed himself in a better light on another occasion. Our

counsellors had received several visits, and some flagons had been

joyously emptied. When our guests were gone, Moritz Damis, captain of

Ukermuende, a rollicking, lively creature, suddenly took a fancy to go

to the court ball which was taking place that evening, not in the

apartments of the emperor, but in those of his sister and niece, who

likewise occupied the Fugger mansion in the wine market. His

colleagues, who had not forgotten the emperor's threat to the

landgrave, "I'll teach you to laugh," were afraid of a scandal, and

pointed out that our princes were in disgrace; but Damitz got angry.

"Our princes will give me money, but they cannot give me health," he

exclaimed. "What am I doing here? Why should I deny myself the sight of

such rejoicings? How am I to keep alive? I may as well make up my mind

never to cast eyes on Pomerania again." Saying which, he rushed down

the stairs; a counsellor tried to hold him back by his golden chain,

the links of which, however, broke, and our captain ran to the ball.

Simon Plate had remained perfectly cool, and they asked him to follow

the madcap. There was no difficulty for Plate to get inside the

ball-room, and the first person of note of whom he caught sight was the

puissant and renowned warrior-chief, Johannes Walther von Hirnheim,[59]

moodily walking to and fro at the lower end of the room. Damitz had

noticed standing close by the dancers a handsome woman gorgeously

dressed and glittering with jewels, and in less time than it takes to

tell he had addressed her: "Charming creature," he said, "are you not

going to dance?" "Oh no, sir," was the answer; "dancing is only fit for

young people, and I am an old woman." "What, are you married?" asked

the captain. "I could have sworn that you were only a girl, and if I

were told to choose with the most beautiful woman here, my choice would

fall upon you." "Ah, sir, you are merely jesting." "And what is your

husband's name?" the captain went on unabashed. "Johannes Walther von

Hirnheim." "Johannes Walther? Oh, I know him well." The husband,

somewhat curious with regard to the captain's conversation, had drawn

near, though still continuing to walk up and down in silence. Damitz,

though, taking no notice of either him or Simon Plate, continued his

interrogatory. "Have you any children?" "No; God has ordained it

otherwise." "Ah, if I had such a wife, I know what I am. God would soon

grant us children." This incursion of the captain into the physical

domain induced Simon Plate to interfere, to turn the conversation, and

to take Damitz back to his domicile.

In December our ambassadors decided to send one of their body to

Pomerania, and Heindrich Normann was selected for the journey. It was

bitterly cold, and Normann endeavoured to provide against it. He put on

a linen nightcap, over that a fur one, and a second of cloth, with a

big muffler fastened behind and in front (just as the peasantry still

wear it), and finally a thick hat, embroidered in silk. On his hands

white thread gloves, chamois leather ones lined with fur; over these,

and over the latter again thicker gloves of wolf's skin. His body was

encased in a linen shirt, a knitted tightly-fitting garment in the

Italian fashion; over that a vest of red English cloth, a doublet

wadded with cotton, another lined jacket, a long coat of wool trimmed

with wolf's skin, covering the whole; finally, on his feet, linen

socks, Louvain gaiters reaching above the knee, cloth hose, stockings

lined with sheep's skin, and high boots. When everybody had done giving

special commissions, the servants hoisted him into the saddle, for he

could have never got into it without their help. He went as far as

Donauwerth; when he got there, his equipment decidedly seemed to him

too uncomfortable. As, however, he had no desire to be frozen to death,

he turned his horse's head and made for the good city of Augsburg.

Inasmuch as the narrative of Sleidan is very incomplete, I am going to

write the story of Sebastian Vogelsberg. Having been an eye-witness, I

made it my business to note down his last speeches. Vogelsberg was tall

and of imposing appearance, his width being in proportion to his

height; in short, a handsome, well-proportioned man with a head as

round as a ball, a beard reaching to his waist, and an open face. No

painter could have found a better model for a manly man. He had a

certain amount of education. According to some people, he had been a

schoolmaster in Italy. Count Wilhelm von Fuerstenberg, who entered the

"paid" service of the belligerent monarchs as a colonel, took him as a

semi-secretary, semi-accountant. Vogelsberg, having been promoted to an

ensignship, rendered distinguished service in the field; Ambitious,

glib of tongue, not to say eloquent and rarely at a loss what to do, he

quickly attained the grade of captain, and high and mighty potentates

soon preferred him to Fuerstenberg. The latter felt most annoyed at

this, belonging as he did to a class of men to whom merit is

inseparable from birth. He constantly inveighed against Vogelsberg,

who, in his turn, did not spare his rival. Pamphlets were printed on

both sides. The count appears to have begun; he appealed to his peers,

their honour seemed to him at stake. The Protestant States sided with

Vogelsberg, their co-religionist, while the popish camp swore mortal

hatred to him.

Weary of fruitless polemics, and knowing full well that it would have

been folly to take the law into his own hands, Vogelsberg decided upon

bringing an action before the Imperial Chamber for damages for

defamation of character. I was at the time clerk to his procurator, Dr.

Engelhardt; consequently, I knew every particular of the affair. After

protracted debates, the court finding for Vogelsberg, condemned Count

Wilhelm to a fine of four hundred florins, a sentence which caused

Wilhelm's brother, Frederick von Fuerstenberg, and everybody who bore

the title of count to consider themselves the injured parties.

Three _causae proaegoumenae_, to use the language of the dialecticians,

may be plainly discerned in this drama; namely, religion, the soldierly

qualities of Vogelsberg, and the hostility of the nobles and papists.

We may add two _causae procatarcticae_: the first, mentioned by

Sleidan, to the effect that a twelvemonth previously Vogelsberg had

taken a regiment of landsknechten to the King of France; the second,

which I saw with my own eyes at Wissenburg on the Rhine, that

Vogelsberg had built himself in that Imperial town a beautiful mansion

of hewn stone with the arms of France, three big _fleurs de lis_

artistically sculptured over the door. The papists, feeling confident

that in the probable event of a new war of religion, the valiant

captain would give them a great deal of trouble, and thirsting as they

did for his blood, like a deer in summer pants for cooling streams,

they took time by the forelock. Their skill in exploiting with his

Imperial Majesty the _causae irritatrices_ stood them in good stead.

They were instrumental in getting two doctors of their following

appointed as judges. The one was German, and the other Welch, but both

promptly pronounced a sentence of death which was immediately carried

out.

On February 7, 1548, shortly after eight in the morning, an

ensign-corps of soldiers from the outskirts of "Our Lady," and two

other ensign-corps from the outskirts of "St. Jacob," took up their

position in the square of the Town Hall. Sleidan says the scaffold was

erected for the purpose of executing Vogelsberg. This is an error on

Sleidan's part. The scaffold had been there for six months, and had

served many times. An officer from the Welch, whom they call _magister

de campo_ was detached from the troops with about thirty men to fetch

the condemned man from the Peilach tower. The latter was brought back

to the sound of drums and fifes.

Vogelsberg wore a black velvet dress and a Welch hat embroidered with

silk. At his entrance into the circle surrounding the scaffold he

caught sight of Count Reinhard von Solms, whose nose was half-eaten

away by disease, and Ritter Conrad von Boineburg. Without taking any

notice of the count, a relentless papist, who detested him on account

of Fuerstenberg, he asked of the ritter: "Herr Conrad, is there any

hope?" "Dear Bastian," replied Boineburg, "May God help you."

"Certainly, He will help me," was Vogelsberg's rejoinder. And with his

firmest step, his head erect, and his usual assurance, he climbed the

steps to the scaffold.

He looked for a long while at the crowd. All the windows were occupied

by members of the nobility. At those of the Town Hall there were

serried rows of electors, princes of the Church and of the empire,

barons, counts, and knights. In a manly voice and as steady a tone as

if he were at the head of his troops, Vogelsberg began to speak: "Your

serenissime highnesses, highnesses, excellencies, noble, puissant,

valiant seigneurs and friends. As I am this day ..." At that moment the

_magister de campo_ (quarter-master-general) told the executioner to

proceed with his duty, but the latter, addressing the condemned man,

said: "Gracious sir, I shall not hurry you. Speak as long as you

please." Thereupon Vogelsberg went on: "I am to lose my life by order

of the emperor, our very merciful and gracious master, and I now will

tell you the cause of my death-warrant. It is for having raised ten

ensign-companies last summer for the coronation of the praiseworthy

King of France. No felonious act can be imputed to me during the ten

years I served the emperor. As I am innocent, I beseech of you to keep

me in kind memory, and to pity my undeserved misfortunes. Watch over my

kindred, so that they may not come to grief on account of all this, and

may benefit by the fruit of my services, for the whole of my life was

that of an honest man. I am being sacrificed to the implacable

resentment of that infamous Lazarus Schwendi." The latter was at the

window facing the scaffold, and suddenly disappeared, but Vogelsberg

did not interrupt his speech. "He came to me to Wissemburg to tell me

that he was in disgrace in consequence of the murder of a Spanish

gentleman in the suite of his Imperial Majesty, and that the Spaniards

were also looking for me. He proposed to me to fly to France together,

and borrowed two hundred crowns of me. I even gave him a horse as a

present for his advice. Well, the traitor took me straight to the

Spaniards. While I was in prison I asked him, for my personal need, for

some of the crowns I had lent him, but he turned a deaf ear to all my

requests. I beg of you to be on your guard against that skunk of a

thief who bears the name of Lazarus Schwendi. No one ought to have any

dealings with him. He has even dared to denounce to his Imperial

Majesty his Serenissimo Highness the Elector Palatine as having entered

into a league with the King of France. It is an infamous slander. If I

had another life to stake, I should stake it on that. I have been

refused the last assistance of a minister, of a confessor--a refusal

which has no precedent. I nevertheless die innocent and redeemed by the

blood of Jesus Christ." After this he walked round the circle, though

above it, asking everybody to forgive him as he forgave everybody. Then

he seated himself. The executioner divided his long beard into two and

knotted the two ends together on the skull. Having craved his pardon,

and invited him to say a Pater and the Credo, he performed his office.

The head rolled like a ball from the scaffold to the ground; the

executioner caught it by the beard and placed it between the legs of

the body, spreading a cloak over the whole, except the feet which

showed from under it.

After that the officer and his thirty arquebusiers went to fetch Jacob

Mantel and Wolf Thomas, of Heilbron, who had been brought to Augsburg

at the same time as Vogelsberg. Thomas was left at the foot of the

scaffold. Mantel walked round the platform and said a few words, which

many people could not hear. As his stiff leg made it difficult for him

to kneel down, the executioner slipped a footstool under the paralyzed

limb. He failed to sever the head at the first stroke, and had to

finish the operation below; then he once more covered up the body.

There only remained Wolf Thomas. To judge by his dress and bearing he

was not an ordinary man. He stared fixedly at the feet of Vogelsberg,

showing from under the cloak; then he took his eyes off, and told those

around that he had been a loyal and faithful soldier for twenty-seven

years, and that he died absolutely innocent, his sole crime consisted

in having served the King of France during three months, as many an

honest noble and squire had done before him without incurring the least

punishment. He asked those around to forgive him as he forgave them,

and to pray for him as he would intercede in their favour, he being

firmly assured of a place near the Almighty. He asked those who

promised to say a Pater and the _Credo_ for him to hold up their hands.

After that he was beheaded.

At the termination of the triple execution the executioner cried in a

loud voice from the scaffold: "In the name of his Imperial Majesty it

is expressly forbidden to any one to serve the King of France on the

penalty of sharing the fate of these three men."

The death of Vogelsberg caused universal regret. The unanimous opinion

was that a soldier of such mettle was worth his weight in gold to a

warlike monarch. Sleidan alleges erroneously that the two judges

exculpated Lazarus von Schwendi. It was the emperor who caused to be

printed and distributed everywhere a small proclamation of half a

sheet, declaring Schwendi free from all blame, inasmuch as he strictly

carried out the Imperial orders, and that the speech of Vogelsberg was

obviously dictated by the desire to escape the most fully deserved

punishment.

The King of France, it was said, was so displeased at the cry of the

executioner from the scaffold that by his orders the Marquis de

Saluces, on his return from Germany, was arrested and beheaded. This

was the nobleman who at Wittenberg had disadvised the execution of the

Elector of Saxony.

In April, Augsburg witnessed the arrival of Muleg-Hassan, King of

Tunis. Thirteen years previously he had been driven forth by

Barbarossa; subsequently he was re-established on his throne by the

emperor, but his eldest son had ousted him and put his eyes out. A

fugitive and wretched, he came to place himself under the protection of

the emperor, and was soon joined in his exile by one of his sons. I

often met these two on horseback, in company of Lasky, the Polish

ambassador, who spoke their language.

As the pope opposed, against all expectation, the holding at Trent of a

Christian, free and impartial council, and experience having taught

people besides that the learned men of both parties would never come to

an agreement, the States of the empire proposed to his Imperial Majesty

to confide to a restricted number of learned and God-fearing men the

task of drawing up a document for the furtherance of the reign of God

and the preservation of the public peace.

In pursuance of this the emperor delegated personally the Bishop of

Mayence, Dr. George Sigismund Seld, and Dr. Heindrich Hase.

The King of the Romans selected Messire Gandenz von Madrutz. The

Elector of Mayence chose his Bishop Suffragan; the Elector of Treves,

Johannes von Leyen, canon of Treves and of Wurzburg; the Elector of

Cologne, his provincial; the Elector Palatine, Ritter Wolf von

Affenstein; the Elector of Saxony, Dr. Fachs; the Elector of

Brandenburg, Eustacius von Schlieben.

The princes selected the Bishop of Augsburg, Dr. Heinrichmann; the Duke

of Bavaria, Dr. Eck.

The prelates selected the Abbe von Weingarten; the counts, Count Hugo

de Montfort; the towns: Strasburg, Jacob Sturm; Ulm, George Besserer.

These personages met on Friday, February 11, 1548, but they failed to

agree, which might have easily been foreseen. The ecclesiastical

members of the Diet took advantage of the opportunity to have the book

of the Interim composed respectively by the Bishop of Naumburg,

Johannes Pflug; by the Bishop Suffragan of Mayence, appointed a little

later on to the See of Meiseburg, and by the court preacher to the

Elector of Brandenburg, Johannes Agricola, otherwise Eisleben, who

coveted the bishopric of Cammin. The Imperial assent to this had to be

obtained; they set to work in the following manner.

The Elector of Brandenburg and his wife lived on a sumptuous footing at

Augsburg. The elector was fond of display; the electress, the daughter

of a king of Poland, was even more lavish than her spouse. The dearth

of everything and the frequency and the profusion of the entertainments

had already for a long time reduced the finances of his Serene Highness

to a critical state. Seven years previously, at the gathering of

Ratisbon, Dr. Conrad Holde had already lent the prince close upon six

thousand crowns. Their repayment had been constantly, but

unsuccessfully demanded. Finally, at Augsburg, in default of ready

money, he received the written promise of repayment in four instalments

at the dates of the Frankfurt fairs. It was duly signed and sealed.

Nothing was wanting to its perfect legality; the most suspicious would

have been satisfied. Nevertheless, the payments were not made when due,

and the creditor instituted proceedings before the Imperial Chamber.

The elector did not know which way to turn; there was not a purse open

to him. He was absolutely at a loss how to get his wife and his

numerous suite decently away from Augsburg when the Bishop of Salzburg

made an end of his embarrassments by advancing him sixteen thousand

Hungarian florins on the duly executed promise of their being repaid in

a short time. But the principal condition of the loan was that the

Elector of Brandenburg should present to his Imperial Majesty the work

of the three above-named personages, and bind himself and his subjects

to submit to its provisions.

The Elector of Saxony instructed Christopher Carlowitz to send a copy

of the "Interim" to Philip Melanchthon.[60] The latter's reply was

singularly devoid of courage. It was supposed to be inspired by the

theologians of Wittenberg and Leipzig, who in that way sounded the

first notes of "Adiaphorism." Carlowitz promptly communicated this

epistle everywhere. It aroused general surprise, as well as the most

opposed feelings; grief and consternation among the adherents to the

Augsburg confession, matchless jubilation among the Catholics. And the

Lord alone knows how they bellowed it about in the four corners of

Germany, how they availed themselves of it to proclaim their victory.

[Illustration: Melanchthon. _From a Drawing by_ Lucas Cranach.]

The ecclesiastical electors sent Melanchthon's letter, together with

the book, to the pope, and what with backslidings and plotting the pear

was very soon ripe. The publication of the "Interim" took place on May

14, at four o'clock in the afternoon, in presence of the States

assembled. The emperor had it printed in Latin and in German. In the

first proofs handed to the emperor the passage from St. Paul,

"_Justificati fide pacem habemus_," was altogether changed by the

suppression of the word _fide_; the confessionists protested

energetically, and confounded the would-be authors of the fraud.

The stern tone of the act of promulgation stopped neither speeches nor

scathing writings. Sterling refutations were published even outside

Germany; the two best known are the Latin treatise of Calvin, which

spread all over the empire--in Italy, in France, in Poland, etc.; and a

piece of writing in German, which was more to the taste of everybody,

and one of whose authors was AEpinus, superintendent of Hamburg.

Seigneur de Granvelle and his son, the Bishop of Arras, strongly

persuaded the Elector of Saxony to adhere to the "Interim," in order to

regain his freedom, but the prince remained faithful to the Confession

of Augsburg. Thereupon they took away his books; there was no meat on

his table on fast days, and his chaplain, whom he had kept with him

with the consent of the emperor, had to fly in disguise. The landgrave,

on the other hand, who did not care to profess greater wisdom than the

fathers of the Church, consented to recommend the book to his subjects,

and begged to be pardoned for the sake of Christ and all His saints.

At the closure of the Diet, I took, like his Imperial Majesty, the road

to the Low Countries. The stay of the emperor at Ulm brought about the

dismissal of the council, which was replaced by more devoted creatures.

The six ministers were bidden to accept the "Interim." Four of them

were not to be shaken, and they were led away captive in the suite of

the emperor; the other two, in spite of their apostasy, had to leave

wives and children, and scant consideration was shown to them. At

Spires, the prior of the barefooted Carmelites was, like all the

brothers of his monastery, a good evangelical, though all had preserved

the dress of their order. During four years I had seen him going to and

fro in the town, dressed in his monk's frock; each Sunday he went into

the pulpit and the church was crowded to the very porch. Never did he

breathe a word about the pope or about Luther, but he was a master of

pure doctrine, and at the approach of the emperor he fled in a layman's

dress. Worms and the whole of the country lost their preachers. Landau

possessed a select group of learned and distinguished ministers,

because the town offered many advantages; a delightful situation,

excellent fare, and a splendid vineyard at the very gates of the town;

but the ministers had to abandon the place to the popish priests,

scamps without experience, without instruction, without piety, and

without decency.

I often had occasion afterwards to go to Landau, where the advocate of

my father, Dr. Engelhardt, resided. One Sunday, at the termination of

the mass, I heard a young and impudent good-for-nothing hold forth from

the pulpit in the following strain: "The Lutherans are opposed to the

worship of Mary and the saints. Now, my friends, be good enough to

listen to this. The soul of a man who had just died got to the door of

heaven, and Peter shut it in his face. Luckily, the Mother of God was

taking a stroll outside with her sweet son. The deceased addresses her,

and reminds her of the Paters and the Aves he has recited to her glory,

the candles he has burned before her images. Thereupon Mary says to

Jesus, 'It's the honest truth, my son.' The Lord, however, objected,

and addressed the supplicant: 'Hast thou never read that I am the way

and the door to everlasting life?' He asks. 'If thou art the door, I am

the window,' replies Mary, taking the 'soul' by the hair and flinging

it into heaven through the open casement. And now I ask you, is it not

the same whether you enter Paradise by the door or by the window? And

those abominable Lutherans dare to maintain that one must not invoke

the Virgin Mary." That was the kind of scandalous irreligion exhibited

in the places where formerly the healthy evangelical doctrine was

preached.

The landgrave's submission to the "Interim" only brought him into

contempt. His wife, who had hastened to Spires to beseech the emperor,

was allowed to remain day and night with the prisoner during his week's

stay there. At the departure for Worms I saw the landgrave pass at

eight in the morning, with his escort of Spaniards with long

arquebuses. They hemmed him in in front, behind, and at the sides,

while he himself was bestriding a broken-down nag with empty and open

holsters, and the hilt of his sword securely tied to its sheath. A

serried crowd of strangers and inhabitants, women and servants, old and

young, were pressing around his escort, as if there had been an order

given to that effect. They cried: "Here goes the wretched rebel, the

felon, the scoundrel that he is." They said worse things which, from

certain scruples, I abstain from repeating. It looked like the

procession of a vulgar malefactor who was being taken to the scaffold.

Pure chance made me an eye-witness of a diverting scene at Augsburg. I

have already said that Duke Maurice had ingratiated himself very much

with the Bavarian court ladies. One Sunday, in December, when the

weather was fine, he was ready to go out in a sleigh. I happened to be

at the door with several others, who also heard the following dialogue.

Carlowitz came down the stairs of the chancellerie in hot haste,

exclaiming: "Whither is your Highness going?" "To Munich," was the

answer. "But your Highness has an audience to-morrow with the emperor."

"I am going to Munich," repeated the duke. Thereupon Carlowitz: "If,

thanks to me, the electoral dignity is practically yours, it is

nevertheless true that your frivolity causes you to be despised of

their Majesties and of all honourable people." Maurice merely laid the

whip on his horses, which started off at a gallop, Carlowitz shouting

at the top of his voice: "Very well, then; go to the devil, and may

heaven blast you and your sledge." When the prince returned, Carlowitz

announced his intention of going to Leipzig. "If I miss the New Year's

fair," he said, "I shall lose several thousand crowns." The elector had

only one means to make him stay, namely, to count out the sum to him.

As the restoration of the Imperial Chamber necessitated my return to

Spires to watch my father's lawsuit, I wrote to Pomerania to be

dispensed from following the emperor. This is the answer from our

princes.

"Greetings to our loyal and well-beloved. Our counsellors have informed

us of thy request, which we should willingly grant thee if it were not

prejudicial to our interests and those of the country, and which thou

hast up to the present administered. We therefore invite thee to

exercise some patience, and to serve us with zeal and fidelity as

heretofore; inclined as we are to recall thee after the Diet to give

thee unquestionable proofs of our great satisfaction, as well as the

means satisfactorily to bring to an end the paternal affairs. We rely

on thy obedience, and bind ourselves to confirm all our promises as

above. Given under our hand at Stettin-the-Old, Sunday after St. James,

in the year 1548."