CHAPTER XII.

TREACHERY AND DELIVERANCE.

With the exception of babes and very young children, no one in Freiberg

slept that night. All were wakeful and astir. Men stood armed for

battle in their places on the city walls; women and children prayed in

the churches; mothers watched with anxious hearts over slumbering

little ones, not knowing when the dreaded Swedes might burst in to

slaughter all alike.

'Stay with me, my son,' Mistress Jüchziger begged of Conrad. 'Do not

let your poor blind mother be left to meet the Swedes alone. At least,

let us die together.'

Conrad obeyed like a dutiful son, though staying in the house to-night

was a task most irksome to his adventurous spirit, which urged him

forth into the busy turmoil where the brave citizens were making ready

to fight for all they held dear.

Jüchziger, too, seemed a stranger to peace and quietness of spirit,

though for a very different reason. He was seen first in one place and

then in another, in different parts of the city. At last he hastened

through the streets towards his own house, but took special care to

avoid the churches and the praying people. After entering the

living-room of his home, he moved restlessly about the apartment,

alternately taking up and laying down various trifling objects. At

last, towards ten at night, he started forth with the Swedish

treasure-box under his arm, and did not return.

'Whatever can there be in that box!' said Conrad after a time to his

mother, who, though still an invalid, could not rest for anxiety, and

had exchanged her bed for an easy-chair by the stove. 'It is nailed

and screwed up still, as tight as ever, unless I am mistaken.'

Before the mother could reply, the door was suddenly opened from

without, and Master Prieme, fully armed, entered the room.

'Where is Jüchziger?' he said instantly. 'He is to come at once to the

Burgomaster.'

'He went out a little while ago,' replied Conrad, 'and did not leave

word where he was going.'

'What! you here, boy!' cried Prieme, in evident surprise. 'Ha! And

how did you get out of the Swedes' hands and into the town again? How

about that safe-conduct and that precious buried box? The whole thing

looked very suspicious, very suspicious indeed.'

Conrad found himself in a great difficulty. Should he make a clean

breast of it, and perhaps get his step-father into dreadful trouble?

He at first hesitated, and then stammered--

'Well--the--the Swedes--let me go in three days.'

'And the box? What about that?'

'Oh--well,' stammered Conrad, incapable of telling a lie, 'the box? I

got that too.'

'Dug it out of the cellar?'

'No; not that. The Swedes dug it up, and gave it me; and then'--

'That's false!' cried Prieme. 'Sooner get blood out of a post than a

box worth keeping out of the clutches of a Swede. What was in it?'

'I'm sure I don't know. It was nailed up so tight; and my step-father

wouldn't let me even peep into it. I don't think it has ever been

opened.'

'Just like Jüchziger! a regular downright skinflint! And how did you

get into the town again? Who let you in across the moat and through

the gate?'

Conrad was by this time nearer crying than laughing. He looked

imploringly at his questioner, remained silent, and then, when further

pressed, stammered out--

'Along the Münzbach--under the water-tower.'

'That's sheer nonsense!' cried Prieme again. 'Three gratings of the

toughest hammered iron are firmly fixed across the way. Don't lie to

me, boy, or I'll break every bone in your body.'

'But I did, indeed I did,' persisted Conrad. 'In all the gratings one

bar was eaten away by rust or something, so that I could easily push

them on one side and creep through.'

Prieme turned pale. 'Merciful heaven!' he cried; 'this means

treachery. Quick to give the alarm! Perhaps we may even yet save the

city.'

'Oh, please do be reasonable, Master Prieme!' pleaded Conrad, seizing

the man by the arm as he was hastening away. 'It has been exactly like

that for several days now, and no harm has come of it. Pray don't give

an alarm, or the end of it will be you'll get my step-father into a

mess, and then what is to become of me?'

'Such talk is all no use,' answered Prieme, 'no use at all; not even if

Jüchziger were your real father, which he isn't.'

'But only think what all the people in the town would say if I got my

step-father into trouble. Didn't everybody except the governor praise

Hillner when he wouldn't shoot at his father?'

'That's a totally different thing,' said Prieme impatiently; 'then it

was only one Swede, and it didn't much matter whether he lived or died.

But, boy, if many thousand innocent people are about to perish through

one man's knavish trick, ought we not to bring the traitor to justice,

ay, though he be father, brother, or son? Look at that dear, good

woman, your blind mother! Do you want the Swedes to get in and

slaughter her? Are you going to let sixty thousand brave men and women

perish, and all our toils and struggles be in vain, just to save one

villain from the punishment he deserves?'

'Oh, dear me, whatever shall I do? No, indeed, neighbour Prieme,' said

Conrad, in great distress. 'But I'm sure I don't know anything at all

about my step-father, except that he'--

'Jüchziger is to come instantly to the Burgomaster,' cried a well-known

voice, as the door of the living-room opened, and Roller's bandaged

head appeared.

'Yes,' said Prieme in a tone of vexation; 'but the bird has flown, and

even now I am busy with his brood. Good woman, cannot you give us some

information about your husband?'

'Nothing more,' said Mistress Jüchziger, 'than this, that about an hour

ago, while Conrad was gone out of the room, my husband was burning

something over the lamp. At first I thought it was only tinder, but

there was a sudden noise at the room door, and I fancied I heard my

husband hastily crumple up a piece of paper, and throw it either under

the window-seat or the cupboard. No one entered as my husband seemed

to expect; it was only the cat scratching to be let in.'

'You here!' cried Roller to his dog, which had followed him in, and

which now went open-mouthed at the cat, she in her turn retiring under

the cupboard, a safe refuge into which the dog could not follow her.

'You here!' said Roller again. 'Get out, Turk!'

Turk had planted himself in front of the cupboard, and was now

scratching vigorously with his fore-paws at the unhappy cat's

hiding-place. As he did so, he threw out a ball of paper rolled

closely together, which the sharp-sighted Prieme instantly picked up

and unfolded. It was a fragment of a written sheet, partly burned, and

in several places quite illegible.

In a state of the highest excitement, Prieme brought the paper into the

lamp-light, and with trembling lips read as follows:--

'To rouse the prisoners singly and without being observed . . . in

conjunction with forty of our bravest soldiers under Captain . . . into

the city . . . as soon as the petard sent herewith has done its work

and the tower is destroyed, the corps held in readiness will make an

attack on that point, which you will powerfully support with the men

placed under your guidance. At the same time the storm on all the

other positions . . . The fifty ducats required to make up the sum

named shall'--

A loud report sounding at this moment through the air, and overpowering

the noise of the artillery, cut short the further reading of the paper.

'There goes the water-tower!' groaned Prieme. 'The Swedish petard you

brought in as such a precious treasure, boy, has indeed done its work.

Can't you hear the shouts of the enemy's storming-party? But,' he went

on with a sudden outburst of enthusiasm, 'do not let them think they

will get into the town, for all that! I would drive them out headlong

with the help of only women and children, though we had no weapons but

stones and fire-brands.' So saying, he rushed forth into the night.

Mistress Jüchziger wrung her hands, and her son seemed almost stunned

by all these untoward events. But prudent Roller said quietly,

'Would God have let this rascally trick be found out when it was too

late? Let us at least do all we can; and first, to examine the town

hall, find out about the prisoners, and see whether Jüchziger is there.'

'Mother, do let me go too,' pleaded Conrad; 'just to learn the truth,

and bring you word back.'

He hastened away with Roller to the cellars under the town hall. They

found the garrison was gone, every man being now needed to confront the

enemy at the fortifications. As the two groped their way through the

dark rooms, Conrad's foot struck against something that gave forth a

metallic clink. It was the bunch of keys that Jüchziger had thrown

away after liberating the Swedish prisoners. Just as they made this

alarming discovery, they heard a loud knocking at one of the inner

doors.

'The Swedish prisoners have fled!' shouted Hillner's voice. 'Look out

for treachery!'

'Roller,' said Conrad, 'let Hillner out. He is quite innocent. Why,

it was my step-father and no one else that made the Burgomaster and the

governor suspect him. If any one can help to put a stop to this

business, I am sure it is my old comrade. See, here are the keys all

ready.'

'I will promise you faithfully,' said Hillner from within, 'to place

myself under arrest again the instant the danger is over.'

'In the name of God, then, and may He guide us aright!' said Roller,

opening the door. 'And now, to put all on the hazard of one bold

stroke.'

The three friends immediately set off at a rapid pace for the lower

town. Whatever persons they met on the way, whether men or women, were

pressed into the service, and the little company armed itself as best

it might in the hurry of the moment. The women, for the most part,

could hit on nothing better than to fill their aprons as they went with

stones from the street pavements. The men, with Conrad among them,

threw the light of their torches from both sides at once under the

vaulted arches that spanned the Münzbach, and were longer or shorter

according as their position required. As soon as it was ascertained

that the way was clear at one point, the little party went on instantly

to the next. Roller and Conrad soon made out, to their great relief,

that the water-tower was still standing. They were by this time

approaching it, and just as they reached the last tunnel, the one

through which the Münzbach leaves the city, at the point where it flows

away under the street below the water-tower, a youth announced that he

had descried the forms of several men creeping through the darkness of

the archway.

Whilst two of their number went off at once to alarm the garrison of

the water-tower and the men on the neighbouring fortifications, the

rest of the courageous little band took post around the vaulted

entrance of the tunnel, in readiness to give the enemy a warm

reception. This arrangement was not completed without some noise; and,

as a consequence, a head appeared from beneath the archway to see what

was going on outside. It was the head of the treacherous town servant;

and Roller promptly dealt it so severe a blow with a stout cudgel, that

its owner instantly drew back with a yell of pain. Some minutes of

ominous silence then passed, in which the enemy were doubtless busy

taking counsel as to what should be done next. Then they suddenly

burst forth with loud shouts and wild uproar. Though one and another

of their number dropped beneath the shower of stones with which they

were greeted, they did not even pause, but pressed furiously forward

against their antagonists.

'Light the petard!' shouted a terrible voice from beneath the archway,

at the sound of which Hillner's arm seemed involuntarily to lose its

power. Immediately afterwards a Swede made his appearance, whose

murderous eyes and bushy red beard were plainly visible in the

torchlight.

'Father!' cried Hillner sadly; and his strong right arm fell

mechanically at his side, while the left was extended imploringly, as

though to shield him from his father's uplifted sword.

A frightful oath was the answer, the one that Conrad heard on the

Erbisdorf road, and, by his comrade's wish, wrote down on paper; and

the oath was at once followed up by a desperate cut. The young man's

wounded hand fell helpless; and a second blow his father levelled at

him must undoubtedly have been at once fatal, had not a well-aimed

stone struck the Swede in the face at the critical moment and made him

stagger back. Before he could recover himself, a musket-ball struck

him in the chest, and he fell to rise no more. This fortunate shot,

with a volley of others that now greeted the Swedes, was fired by a

party of men approaching at a rapid pace under the leadership of Master

Prieme.

'We wanted to snatch a laurel from your wreath,' was his hasty greeting

to Hillner, who, after his father's fall, was once more, with his

uninjured hand, doing vigorous work against the enemy.

The foe, attacked in rear by the garrison of the water-tower, were

gradually compelled to give way before the superior force of the

Freibergers, and were at length driven back beneath the arched vault of

the Münzbach, a retreat into which the Saxon bullets followed them,

rapidly thinning their ranks.

'Yield, you dogs!' shouted Prieme, fearful, and not without good

reason, that they might even now explode the petard.

Thereupon arose a short, sharp contest among the entrapped Swedes, in

which the smaller and more courageous section wished to fire the petard

already sunk in the foundations of the water-tower, and bury all in the

ruins; while the other party did their utmost to prevent this design

from being put into execution. The less bold majority gained the day,

and announced their intention to yield themselves up as prisoners of

war. Jüchziger had received his reward. His body, with a severe wound

on the head, was found lying trampled down by the feet of the Swedish

soldiers into the waters of the Münzbach; and the dangerous petard was

discovered sunk into a hole prepared with much toil and secrecy by

Jüchziger in the strong arch on which the tower stood.

The fight was hardly over when the commandant appeared, come to see

what was going on.

'I trust,' said Hillner respectfully, 'that your excellency will pardon

my being here, instead of under arrest where I was placed. I shall now

hasten to give myself up again. But that I am at least no traitor to

my fatherland, this wounded hand may surely bear witness.'

'My dear Defensioner,' replied Schweinitz heartily, 'the enemy may

commence their grand assault at any moment. There is no time now to

examine into your affair. For the present you are liberated on parole.

Be of good courage, and get your wound attended to the very first

thing.'

With these words, the commandant, finding his presence no longer

necessary, hastened away.

The firing on both sides continued till midnight. Then the Freibergers

heard loud sounds of confusion and disturbance and much shouting in the

Swedish camp; but the dreaded general assault was still unaccountably

delayed.

Between two and three o'clock on the morning of February 17th, there

arrived at the city moat an Imperialist soldier, who had been taken

prisoner by the Swedes before Leipzig, and had now made his escape. On

being admitted into the town, he announced that the enemy were making

hasty preparations for departure, that the military stores were already

loaded, and that he himself had been employed with others in removing

the charges from the Swedish mines. This joyful and unexpected news

passed rapidly from mouth to mouth, and put the whole city in a

ferment. Hope turned to glad certainty, when, at break of day, the

enemy's army, with its artillery and baggage-waggons, was seen marching

away from the city, and taking the road towards Klein-Waltersdorf;

although four or five hundred Swedish dragoons still held the Hospital

Church, whence they fired on the town and on all who issued from it.

The Freibergers, instead of abandoning themselves to the transports of

an excessive joy, re-occupied the Peter Gate without delay, and made a

sortie in which they set fire to the enemy's batteries and advanced

works.

By about seven in the morning, when the Swedes had finally evacuated

the Hospital Church itself, Imperialists began to arrive before the

city, in small numbers at first, which, however, rapidly increased.

Their officers were astounded at sight of the ramparts and

fortifications, which in many places were almost level with the earth.

Their colonel asked as a particular favour that he might be permitted

to ride his horse into the city over the principal breach by the Peter

Gate. This was readily granted by the commandant, and as easily

accomplished by the gallant officer. Meantime the prudent Freibergers

had not in the least relaxed their diligence in filling up the enemy's

trenches and destroying their batteries, while repairing their own

barbicans and moat, building the former up with gabions, and

strengthening the latter with a stout wooden parapet.

On the 18th of February, Field-Marshal Piccolomini himself entered

Freiberg, and highly commended the courageous and unexampled defence

that had been made by a town so slightly fortified. The Emperor and

the Elector did not fail to distribute weighty gold chains of office,

patents of nobility, badges of honour, and similar acknowledgments to

the commandant, the Burgomaster, and the city; and Freiberg's fame was

heard far and wide through Europe. Its inhabitants attributed the

glory of their successful defence to God alone; and just as on the 17th

of February 1643, there went up from all the churches of Freiberg, and

from every lip, the devout and thankful song, 'Lord our God, to Thee

our praises,' so has it been on each anniversary since, as each year

has brought round afresh the mountain city's day of joy and

thanksgiving.

It has never been fully known whether the approach of the Imperial

army, or the failure of the treachery they had planned, or the brave

and desperate resistance of the besieged citizens, caused the Swedes at

last to abandon their idea of a general assault. But one thing is

certain, that the brave Defensioner Hillner was fully cleared of blame

by both Commandant von Schweinitz and Burgomaster Schönleben. Nor was

it long before he was made a free citizen and a master-craftsman, and

that without any cost to himself.

'My son,' said Schweinitz to the newly made master-carpenter, 'you may

take my word for it, that in war a soldier must have a heart like a

flint, and often say things very different from what he feels. You did

quite right not to fire at your own father, and had I been in your

place, I should very likely have done the same myself. Now that the

enemy is safe out of the way, I may tell you so freely. God grant the

foe may never return.'

Nor was it long before his young widowed mistress gave her hand in

marriage to her _quondam_ journeyman, and never had the smallest cause

to repent the gift. She kept one secret, and one only, from her

husband; she never told him that the hand he had asked and won was the

hand that had, at exactly the right moment, thrown the stone which was

the means of saving his life. The miller's family, after their return

to Erbisdorf, kept up their friendship for the city home where they had

received so hospitable a welcome. Conrad Schmidt, under Hillner's

watchful care, grew up into a famous carpenter. When in later years

he, too, became a master-craftsman, he rebuilt his mother's house

outside the Peter Gate, making it more beautiful than it had ever been

before. To this new home he brought his old playmate Dollie as his

wife, and she lovingly and carefully tended her husband's blind mother

so long as Mistress Jüchziger needed her ministrations. Roller and

Prieme, and all those who have played their parts so bravely in our

story, lived for many a year as well-to-do citizens; and in the long

winter evenings they delighted to tell one another rousing stories of

the events that happened during that memorable siege.

Freiberg has never been besieged again; yet what the artillery and

mines of the warlike foe failed to accomplish, has been brought about

long since by the genial beams of golden peace.

Freiberg's strong gates and barbicans, her towers, walls, and moats,

have, for the most part, passed away. Where once the cannon thundered,

roses and jessamines now fill lovely gardens with their rich perfume;

where the blood of Saxon burgher and Swedish trooper was once shed in

savage strife, the air now rings with the laughter of happy children;

and no trace is ever seen of those who fought so bravely for their

beloved city more than two hundred years ago. Yet their memory will

never die; it lives on through the ages, and strong and pure, like

Freiberg's native silver, shall endure the story of their faithfulness

to prince and fatherland.

The Young Carpenters of Freiberg A Tale of the Thirty Years' War · 第 12 / 12 章