CHAPTER V.

THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.--THE CITIES.

When the war broke out, the cities were the armed guardians of German

trade, which was carried on with wealth and bustle, in narrow streets

between high houses. Almost every city, with the exception of the

smallest market towns, was shut out from the open country by walls,

gates, and moats. The approaches were narrow and easy to defend; there

were often double walls, and in many cases the old towers still

overtopped the battlements and gates. Many of the more important of

these middle-age fortifications had been strengthened in the course of

the century, the bastions of stone and brick-work, as well as strong

single towers, were mounted with heavy artillery; and frequently the old

castle of some landed proprietor, or the house of some former magistrate

or count appointed by the Emperor, were fortified. They were not

fortresses in our sense, but they could, if the walls were thick and the

citizens stanch, resist even a great army, at least for a long time.

Thus Nördlingen maintained itself in 1634 for eighteen days, against the

united Imperial armies of King Ferdinand, Gallas, and

Piccolomini--forming together more than 60,000 men: the citizens

repulsed seven assaults, with only five hundred men, Swedish

auxiliaries. For a defence like this, earth sconces were thrown out as

outworks, and rapidly united by trenches and palisades. Many places,

however, far more than at present, were real fortresses. Their chief

strength consisted in their outworks, which were planned by Flemish

science. It had long been known that the balls of carronades were more

destructive to stone and breast-works than to earth-works.

In the larger cities the cleanliness of the streets was much attended

to; they were paved, even in the carriage ways; the pavement was raised

in the centre for carrying away the water; the chief market-place, as

for example in Leipzig, was already paved with stone. Great efforts had

long been made to procure for the cities a certain and abundant supply

of drinking-water; under the streets ran wooden conduits; stone cisterns

and fountains often decorated with statues, stood in the market-places

and principal streets. The streets were not as yet lighted; whoever went

out by night required torches or lanterns; later, however, torches were

forbidden; but at the corner houses were fixed metal fire-pans, in

which, in case of uproar or fire at night, pitch rings and resinous wood

were burnt. It was the custom on the breaking out of a fire to allow the

water to run from the cisterns or the fountains to the streets which

were endangered. For this purpose flood-gates were hung, and it was the

duty of particular trades--in Leipzig, the innkeepers--to dam up the

water with these flood-gates at the burning-places; at the same time

from dung that was heaped up, they formed a traverse. The street police

and patroles had been improved in the course of the last sixty years.

The Elector Augustus of Saxony had organized this department of

administration with no little skill. His numerous ordinances were used

as models by the whole Empire, according to which the princes and cities

regulated their new social life.

The chief market was on Sunday the favourite resort of the men. There,

after the sermon, stood the citizens and journeymen in their festival

attire, chattering, interchanging news, and conferring together on

business. In all commercial cities the merchants had a special room

where they met, which was even then called the Bourse. On the tower of

the Council House, over the clock, there was always a gallery, from

which the warder kept a look-out over the city, and where the city piper

blew the trombone and cornet.

The city communities kept beer and wine cellars for the citizens, in

which the price of the retailed drink was carefully fixed; there were

special drinking-rooms for persons of distinction to hold agreeable

intercourse. In the old Imperial cities, the patricians had generally,

like the guilds, their especial club-houses or rooms, and the luxury of

such a society was then greater in proportion than now. There were also

numerous hotels, which, in Leipzig, were already famed for their

grandeur, and splendidly arranged. Even the apothecaries were under

regulations; they had special rules and prices; they sold many spices

and delicacies, and whatever else was agreeable to the palate. Bath

rooms were considered greater necessaries than now. Even in the country

there was seldom a little farm-house without its bath-house, and there

was a bath-room in every large house in the city. The poor citizens went

to the barbers, who acted as surgeons, and kept bagnios. But besides

these the cities maintained large public baths, in which, gratis, or for

a very small payment, warm and cold bathing could be had with every

convenience. This primitive German custom was almost abandoned during

the war, and is not yet restored to its old extent.

In more important cities the houses of the inner town, in 1618, were for

the most part built of stone, three and more stories high, and roofed

with tiles; the rooms in the houses were often noted for their

cleanliness, decoration, and elegance; the walls were generally adorned

with worked and embroidered carpets, even of velvet, and with beautiful

costly inlaid wainscoting and other decorations; and this not only in

the large old commercial cities, but also in some that were in more

youthful vigour. The household gear was elegant and carefully collected.

There was as yet no such thing as porcelain in use. Rich plate was only

found at the courts of great princes, and in a few wealthy merchant

families. In choice pieces of the noble metals, the artistic work of the

goldsmith was of more value than its weight. Among the opulent citizens,

the place of silver and porcelain was supplied by pewter; it was

displayed in great abundance, shining with a bright polish; it was the

pride of the housewife, and together with it were placed fine glasses

and pottery from foreign countries, often painted and ornamented with

either pious or waggish inscriptions. On the other hand the dress and

adornments of the men were far more brilliant and costly than now. The

feeling of the middle ages was still prevalent, a tendency of the mind

for outward display and stately representations directly opposed to

ours, and nothing tended so much to preserve this inclination, as the

endeavours of the authorities to meet it, by regulating even the outward

appearance of individuals, and giving to each class of citizens their

own peculiar position. The endless sumptuary laws about dress gave it a

disproportionate importance; it fostered more than anything else vanity

and an inordinate desire in each to raise himself above his position. It

appears to us a ludicrous struggle, which the worthiest magistrates

maintained for four centuries up to the French Revolution, against all

the caprices and excesses of the fashion, and always without success.

Surrounded by these forms and regulations, lived a rich, vigorous,

laborious, and wealthy people; the citizens held jealously to the

privileges and dignity of their cities, they liked to exhibit their

riches, capacity, and enterprise among their fellow-citizens. Handicraft

and trade were still very prosperous. It is true, that in wholesale

commerce with foreign countries Germany had already lost much. The

splendour of the Hanse towns had faded. The great commercial houses of

Augsburg and Nuremberg even then existed, only as heirs of the great

riches of their fathers. Italians, French, and above all, English and

Flemish, had become dangerous rivals, the Swedish, Danish, and Dutch

flags floated on the Baltic more triumphantly than those of Lubeck and

other Baltic ports, and the commerce with the two Indies ran in new

currents and into foreign marts. But the German herring fishery was

still of great importance, and the vast Sclave lands of the East were

still an open market to the commerce of the country. But throughout the

whole width of the Empire industry flourished, and a less profitable but

sounder export of the products of the country had produced a general and

moderate degree of wealth. The manufactures of wool and leather, and

linen, harness, and armour with the ornamental industry of Nuremberg

were eagerly desired by foreign countries. The chief cause of

disturbance was the insecurity of the ratio of value. Almost every town

had then its special branch of industry, solidly developed under the

restrictions and control of guilds. Pottery, cloths, leather work,

mining, and metal work, gave to individual places a peculiar character,

and even to smaller ones a reputation which reached through the country

and excited in the citizens a well-justified pride. But in all, scarcely

excepting the greatest, agriculture was deemed of more importance than

now, not only in the suburbs and farms of the city domains, but also

within the towns; many citizens lived upon the produce of their fields.

In the smaller towns most persons possessed portions of the town lands,

but the richer had other property besides. Therefore there were many

more beasts of burden and of draught than now, and the housewife

rejoiced having her own corn-fields, from which she made her own bread,

and if she was skilful, prepared fine pastry according to the custom of

the country. The cities had a great share also in the cultivation of the

vine, which reached from the north down to Lower Saxony; the right of

brewing beer was considered a valuable privilege by some houses; almost

every place brewed beer of its own kind, numberless are the local names

of these primitive beverages; much value was attached to its having a

strong, sweet, and wine flavour, and oily substance; highly esteemed

beer was sent to great distances.

The people derived more pleasure from their sensations than they do now,

were louder and more unconstrained in their mirth. The luxury of

banquets, especially of family feasts, was legally regulated according

to the rank of the citizens, and he was not allowed to diminish it. The

banquets were arranged in courses as now in England, and in every course

a number of similar dishes. Already, oysters were sent out as far as

they could bear the journey, and sometimes, after the introduction of

French cookery, were formed into delicate sauces; caviare was well

known, and at the harvest feasts Leipzig larks were a favourite dish. In

the popular kitchens, besides the Indian spices, they had the favourite

root of the middle ages, saffron, to colour with; beautifully ornamented

show dishes were highly prized, sometimes even eatable dishes were gilt,

and at tables of pretension the most distinguished confection was

marchpane.

The citizens eagerly sought every opportunity for social enjoyment. The

carnival mummeries were general in Northern Germany, when masks swarmed

through the streets; the favourite costumes were those of Turks, Moors,

and Indians. When during the war the Council of Leipzig prohibited

masks, they made their appearance armed with spears and pistols, and

there were tumults with the city watchers. Sledge parties were not less

popular, and sometimes they also were in costume. Public dances were

less frequent than now, even at the marriage and artisan feasts they

were looked upon with mistrust, as it was difficult to restrain the

recklessness of wild boys. They wished to dance without mantles; they

lifted up, swung, and twirled about their partners, which was strictly

forbidden, and the thronging of the gaping domestics into the saloon was

displeasing to the authorities. At twilight all dancing amusements were

to cease.

The larger cities had lists where the sons of the patricians held their

knightly exercise and ran at the ring, also shooting galleries, and

trenches for crossbow and rifle practice. The shooting festivities were

a great source of enjoyment throughout the country, and on these

occasions booths, tents, and cook-shops were erected. The people also

took a lively interest in the festivals of particular guilds, and almost

every town had its own public feast; for example, Erfurt had yearly

prize races for the poorer classes; the men ran for stockings and the

women for fur cloaks. Tennis was a favourite game of the young citizens,

which unfortunately in the troubles of the century almost disappeared.

There were special tennis courts, and a tennis-court master, of the

town. If any gentlemen of distinction came into the town, a place in the

market was strewed with sand, and a playground marked off with pegs and

cords. There these distinguished persons played, and the citizens

watched with pleasure from the windows, to see how a young Prince of

Hesse threw the ball, and how one of Anhalt did his best. At the great

yearly markets, for more than a century, Fortune's urn was a favourite

game. Sometimes it was undertaken by the town itself, but generally it

was granted to some speculator. How much the people were interested in

this, we learn from the fact that the town chronicles frequently

reported the particulars concerning it. Thus, in 1624, at Michaelmas, at

Leipzig a Fortune's urn of seventeen thousand gulden was prepared; each

ticket cost eighteen pfennige; there were seventeen blanks to one prize;

the highest prize was three hundred and fifty gulden, and there were

three hundred thousand blanks. The students at last became angry at the

number of blanks; they attacked and broke down the lottery booth. The

pleasure of the people in spectacles was greater than now, at least more

easily satisfied; processions and city solemnities were frequent; plays

undoubtedly were still a rare enjoyment, in these the children of the

citizens had always the pleasure of representing the characters

themselves, as bands of travelling players were still new and rare. The

clerical body was already unfavourably disposed to what were called

profane pieces, therefore ecclesiastical subjects and allegories with

moral tendencies were always interspersed with burlesque scenes, and

great was the number of the actors. At the yearly markets the play

booths were more abundant than now. At the Easter fair at Leipzig in

1630, was to be seen, amongst other things, a father with six children

who performed beautifully on the lute and violin, a woman who could sew,

write, and convey her food to her mouth with her feet, a child of a year

old quite covered with hair and with a beard; and of strange animals,

there were two marmoset monkeys, a porpoise, and a spoonbill, and, as

now, these monsters were recommended to the people by large pictures.

Besides these there were rope-dancers, fire-eaters, jugglers, acrobats,

and numerous ballad singers and vendors.

But what gave the greatest feeling of independence to the citizen in

1618 was his martial aptitude--almost every one had some practice in the

use of weapons. Every large city had an arsenal; even the heavy

artillery on the fortifications were served by the citizens, who, as a

body, were under ordinary circumstances superior to the young companies

of besieging soldiers. Magdeburg would have made a stronger resistance,

if feeling of duty and discipline had not already become weaker among

the citizens than in former sieges, in one of which the maiden of the

City Arms so valiantly defended her garland.

Besides the city train bands, there was in most of the Circles of the

Empire a regular militia for the defence of the country. About every

tenth man in the city or country was drawn, regularly armed, paid during

service, and appointed for the internal defence of the frontiers of the

country. The beginning of the Landwehr dates from the sixteenth century.

This regulation was recommended by military theorists as most efficient,

and from time to time it was renewed. It was introduced by the States in

Saxony in 1612, and renewed in 1618; there were to be altogether in the

Electorate nine thousand men. The privates were to receive a daily pay

of four groschen, and the serjeants ten and a half, and the cost was

distributed among the houses. But this militia was found very useless in

the war. The discipline was much too lax; the industrious citizen

endeavoured to withdraw himself when danger did not threaten his own

city; the consequence was, that many unsettled people were scouring the

country in arms. If they were required by the community to defend the

ploughs in the field against roving marauders, they demanded a special

gratification, or they evaded it, and very soon they became more a

plague than a benefit to their own country.

What ruin the war brought upon the towns may be learned from every town

chronicle. First, the disorders of the _Kipper_ time inflicted deep

wounds on their morality and prosperity. Then came the sufferings that

even distant war brought upon the citizens, the scarcity and dearness of

provisions. Everything became so insecure that nothing was thought of

but the enjoyment of the day. Rough and wild was the love of pleasure;

and foreign modes, which had been learned from the travelled courtiers

and soldiers became prevalent. From 1626 dandyism began in Germany after

the French fashion; the _Messieurs à la mode_ strutted about, molesting

every one on the paved footpaths of the streets. They had short pointed

beards, long hair in frizzled locks, or cut short on one side, and on

the other hanging on the shoulder in a queue or lock, a large flapped

hat, spurs on their heels, a sword on the left side, dresses slashed and

jagged, a coxcombical bearing, and added to all this, a corrupt language

full of French words. The women were not behindhand; they began to carry

foreign masks before their faces, and feather fans in their hands; they

wore whalebones in their dresses, and repudiated sables, gold and silver

stuffs, and, above all--what appeared very remarkable--silver, and at

last, indeed, white lace. This conduct raised the indignation of the

authorities and pastors, as being fantastic and immoral. To us it

appears as the characteristic evil of a time when the old independence

of the German citizen was crushed.

When an army approached a town, the traffic with the country almost

entirely ceased, the gates were carefully watched, and the citizens

maintained themselves on the provisions that had been collected. Then

began the levying of contributions, the passage and quartering of

friendly armies, with all its terrors. Still worse was the passage of

the enemy. They uselessly endeavoured to purchase safety--it was a

favour if the enemy did not set fire to the town woods or cut them down

for sale, or carry off the town library on his baggage waggon;

everything that was inviting to plunder, such as the organ or church

pictures, had to be ransomed, even to the church bells, which, according

to the custom of war, belonged to the artillery. The cities were not in

a position to satisfy the demands of the Generals, so the most

considerable of the citizens were dragged off as hostages till the sum

exacted was paid.

If a town was considered strong enough to resist the enemy's army, it

was always filled with fugitives at the approach of the enemy, the

number of whom was so great that the citizens could not think of

providing for them. There came to Dresden, for example, in 1637, after

the capture of Torgau in the course of three days, from the 7th to the

9th of May, twelve thousand waggons with fugitive country people. The

enemy surrounded the over-filled place; round the walls the battle

raged, and within, not less voracious, hunger, misery and sickness. All

the fugitives who were capable of bearing arms were employed in severe

siege service; the nobility also of the neighbourhood sometimes

assisted. If the siege lingered long, the high prices were followed by

shameless usury, the millers ground only for the rich, and the bakers

made exorbitant demands. The pictures of famine, such as was then

experienced in many towns, are too horrible to dwell upon. When at

Nördlingen a fortified tower was taken by the besiegers, the citizens

themselves burnt it down, hungry women fell upon the half-roasted bodies

of the enemy and carried pieces home for their children.

But if a town was taken by storm it experienced the fate of Magdeburg;

the mowing down of masses, the dishonouring of women, horrible torments

and mutilations; and, added to all this, pestilence. To what an extent

pestilence then raged in the cities is scarcely credible; it frequently

carried off more than half the inhabitants. In 1626 and the following

years, it depopulated wide districts; from 1631 to 1634 it returned

again, and still worse in 1636.

At all events it gave to each town for years plenty of space, and

proportionate peace; and the places--not very numerous--which were only

once destroyed in the course of the war, were able to recover

themselves. But the most fearful cases of all, were those where the same

calamities were two, three, and four times repeated. Leipzig was

besieged five times, and Magdeburg six, and most of the smaller towns

were more frequently filled with foreign soldiers; thus both large and

small towns were equally ruined.

But this was not all; over wide territories raged a plague of quite

another kind,--religious persecution,--which was practised by the

Imperial party wherever it established itself. The army was followed

everywhere by crowds of proselytizers, Jesuits, and mendicant monks on

foot. These performed their office by the help of the soldiers. Wherever

the Roman Catholics had a footing, the leaders of the Protestant party,

and above all the shepherds of souls, were swept away, more especially

in the provinces which were the Emperor's own domains. Much had been

done there before the war, but still in the beginning of the war in

upper Austria, Moravia, Bohemia, and Silesia, the active intelligence of

the country and the greater part of the community were evangelical.

Their general character was improved. Whoever, after imprisonment and

torture, would not give up his faith was obliged to abandon the country,

and many, many thousands did so. The citizens and country people were

driven in troops by the soldiers to confession. It was considered a

favour when the fugitives were allowed a short insufficient delay for

the sale of their movable goods.

The fate of a small town in one of these provinces, the only one which

was restored at a later period to the spiritual life of Germany, is here

given, not on account of the monotony of misery, but because other

characteristic points of the old burgher life are displayed.

Where the Riesengebirge descend into the Silesian plain, in a fruitful

valley on the shores of the Bober, lies the old town of Löwenberg, one

of the first places in Silesia which was brought under the regulations

of the German law; it had already in the middle ages become a powerful

community, and numbered in 1617, in the city and suburbs, 738 houses and

at least 6500 inhabitants.[37] It rose stately, with its strong walls,

moats, and gate-towers, amidst woods and meadows; it had in its centre,

like almost all the German cities in Silesia, a large market-place,

called the 'Ring,' which included the council-house and fourteen

privileged inns and licensed houses of traffic; the houses within the

town were of stone, high gables projected over the streets, and they

were from four to five stories high. Originally the under story had been

built with trellised porches; these covered passages, however, had been

removed sixty years before; on the under floor the houses had a large

hall, and a strong vault, behind these a spacious room, in which was the

baking oven, and over this a wooden gallery which occupied the back

portion of the room, a staircase led up to it; the fore-part of the room

was the sleeping-room of the family, and the gallery was the

eating-room. On the floor above was a good apartment wainscoted with

wood work, all the rest were chambers and lofts for wares, superabundant

furniture, corn and wool. For Löwenberg was a celebrated

cloth-manufacturing town; in the year 1617, three hundred cloth

factories fabricated 13,702 pieces of cloth, and traders carried their

strong work far into Bohemia and the Empire, but especially into Poland.

The city seal, a lion in the town gate, was of pure gold.

In 1629, the town had already suffered much from the war. The citizens,

demoralized and tortured, had lost the greater portion of their old

spirit. Lichtenstein's dragoon regiment--Imperialists--were quartered in

the neighbouring city, and supported the proselytizing Jesuits by sword

and pistol. The burgesses of the town of Löwenberg, dreading their

arrival, were obliged to dismiss their old pastors; they separated from

them with tears, the populace followed them weeping to their dwellings,

bearing with them their last parting gifts as an expiation. The Jesuits

succeeded them; the night before they came, a horned owl took up its

abode in the church tower, to the terror of the citizens, and alarmed

the town all night long by its hootings. The Jesuits preached after

their fashion daily, promising freedom from all contributions, and from

the infliction of billeting, and special favour and privileges from the

Emperor; but to the refractory temporal destruction. They went so far,

that the intimidated burgesses were driven to the determination of

accepting confirmation; most of the men of the community took the Lord's

Supper according to the Roman Catholic custom, unblessed by the cup. The

more steadfast of the citizens, however, were compelled to go away in

misery. Hardly had the Jesuits left the town, when the people fell back

again, the citizens rushed to the neighbouring villages, where there

were still evangelical pastors, and were there married and baptized;

their churches standing empty under a Roman Catholic priest. There were

new threatenings, and new deeds of violence. The upright burgomaster

Schubert was carried off to severe imprisonment, but the Council now

declared boldly that they would die for the Augsburg Confession; the

burgesses pressed round the governor of the province in wild tumult. The

executioners of the Emperor, "_the beatifiers_" rode through the gates;

great part of the citizens flew with their wives and children out of the

town; all the villages were full of exiles, who were brought back with

violence by the soldiers and apostate citizens, and put into prison till

they could produce certificates of confession; those who fled further,

were driven into Saxony. A new Council was now established--as was the

custom in those times--of unworthy and disreputable men. The houses

abandoned by the citizens were plundered; many waggons heavily laden

with furniture were bought of Roman Catholic neighbours, by the

soldiers, and carried off. The new Council lived in a shameless manner.

The King's judge--an apostate Löwenberger advocate--and the Senators,

ill treated the secret Protestants, and endeavoured to enrich themselves

from the town property. Two hundred and fifty citizens lived in exile

with their families; one side of the market-place was entirely

uninhabited, long grass grew there, and cattle pastured upon it. In the

winter, hunger and cold drove the women and children at last back to the

ruined houses. The leading spirit of the new Council was one Julius, who

had been a Franciscan, a desperate fellow, not at all like a monk, who

wore under his capoche golden bracelets. Then a Roman Catholic priest,

Exelmann, son of an evangelical preacher, was established there. But

however crushed and dispersed the citizens were, the offices of the

priest and the new town council were not undisputed. All the authorities

of the town were not yet under constraint. How the opposition resisted,

will be learned from the narration of a cotemporary, which was printed

by the industrious Sutorius in his history of Löwenberg, 1782.

"On the ninth of April, 1631, early in the morning, the following

gentlemen met at the council-house: first, the priest, secondly, the

King's judge, who was Elias Seiler, an advocate; thirdly, George Mümer,

a woollen wiseacre and cloth factor; fourthly, Schwob Franze, also a

cloth factor; fifthly, Dr. Melchior Hübner, who had been a miller's man,

and a broken down baker; sixthly, Master Daniel Seiler, a joiner;

seventhly, Peter Beyer, the town-clerk; all these took possession of the

councillors' chairs. The worshipful burgomaster was ill of the gout.

Then the priest who had the upper hand in the council made a proposal in

the following words: 'My beloved children in the Church, hearing that

you intend sending an embassage to the court of his Kingly[38] Majesty

at Vienna, I and the worthy King's judge have, on mature consideration,

come to the conclusion, that before you break up it would be well for

you to compel all the women to adopt our religion. You would thereby

obtain for yourselves great favour at court. Also I will not fail to

give you letters of recommendation, to my highly esteemed honourable

cousin Herr Pater Lemmermann, now confessor to his Kingly Majesty, who

certainly has much influence in all secret deliberations, representing

to him how indefatigable and zealous you have been, and have brought the

women into the right way, so that all you who are now here together may

receive a special gratulation. Therefore proceed zealously; if they are

not willing, you have towers and prisons enough to compel them.'

"On this proposition votes were taken all round, and first the King's

judge spoke: 'Yea, gentlemen, as I am willing to undertake such a

journey for the advantage of the town, it seems good to me that this

project should be carried out with zeal and earnestness. If they are not

willing, let the most distinguished of them be put in confinement. I

wager that the others will soon give in. They will come and beg that

they may be let out. Many will be glad that their wives run away and

they be quit of them. If we have been able to bring the men into the

right path, why should we not be able to deal with these little brutes?'

"Herr Mümer, 'the woollen wiseacre,' said: 'I have been a widower six

weeks; I can well tell what cross a man must bear when his conscience is

moved on account of his wife day and night. It would truly be good if

man and wife had one faith and one paternoster; as concerns the Ten

Commandments, it is not so pressing. It would also be good that the

women should do like us, as they enjoy our income, and become

councillors' wives. Only I fear it will be difficult to manage. I would

almost rather consult with the honourable captain-general of the

province hereupon, how he would deal with his own wife. One should be

able to act with better effect when one has a decided command thereunto.

I could never have succeeded with my wife!'

"Now Schwob Franze said: 'Gentlemen, my wife, as you know, died a few

days ago, so that I am now free and a widower; I have also somewhat to

say on this matter, as I have been plagued by my bad wife concerning the

Papacy. Nevertheless I know not how to handle this business rightly.

There are many beautiful women and widows among the Lutheran heretics.

Would it be well, and could one make up one's mind to confine, or drive

them all away at once? Gentlemen, you may do it if it seems good to

you. I am of the same opinion as my honourable colleague, Mümer. If I

marry to-day or to-morrow, my wife must have the like faith with me, or

hold her tongue upon the same.'

"Hereupon Dr. Melchior began: 'Gentlemen, God's sacrament, im-m-imprison

them all together till they assent; le-le-let none out, though they

should all rot alike in prison. I yesterday thrashed my domestic plague

concerning this. The de-e-vil ta-a-ta-ake me, she must do it or I will

drive her entirely away.'

"Master Daniel Seiler said: 'My high and most gracious gentlemen, you

can proceed in such a good work with force alone. The captain-general of

the province can give us no commands herein; let him see to himself how

he can bring his heretical wife into the right way, who is no small

vexation to him, and a mirror to our wives. Therefore I beg of you

proceed with speed against the women.'

"The honourable town-clerk Peter Beyer's vote, was as follows:

'Gentlemen, I know not what to say in this matter. I have a notable

shrew, who snaps about her like the devil. I cannot trust myself to be

able to restrain her. If you can do it, try. But I advise, that we

should begin to speak kindly with the women. Let benches be placed in

the council-room, desire them to sit them down, and see whether it be

possible to convert them by good words, or afterwards by threats.

Perhaps they will take it into consideration.'

"Hereupon the priest and the King's judge came to a conclusion. They

said: 'The time is short, much delay cannot be given; it is a saying

here, eat or die.'

"So the King's judge spoke to the town-clerk saying: 'Are the women

without?' He answered: 'No, there are as yet none there.' Then the judge

said: 'Go, and you will find them either at my house or with Frau

Geneussin.' The town-clerk found no one at the house of the King's

judge, but at that of Frau Geneussin there were about fifteen. To these

he said: 'His reverence the priest, together with his honour the King's

judge, and the honourable council, send greeting to the ladies, and beg

that they will come to the council-house, where the gentlemen are

assembled.'

"Then the wife of the King's judge answered: 'Yea, yea, greet them in

return, and we will come soon.' So the women went two and two, the

judge's and burgomaster's wives foremost, and ascended the stairs of the

council-house, but the other women who had collected at the bread tables

or elsewhere, or in houses, came after them in great numbers, by troops.

Now when the servant had announced to the council that the women were

there, the King's judge said: 'Let them in.' The servant replied: 'Sir,

there will not be room here for them all; I believe that there are five

hundred of them together. The council-house is full of them, part of

them are already sitting on the musicians' stools.'

"Then the priest began: 'Indeed, we must pause awhile, this is not well.

I only intended at first that the most distinguished wives, such as

those of the council, the justices, and jurymen should be called. Ay,

ay, what have you done?' The servant answered: 'Your reverence must be

informed, that yesterday the King's judge commanded that all the women

who had not been converted, or would not be so, should be summoned, and

to begin with his wife; this I have done, and because it was rather

late, I told most of those whom I met that they should notify this to

the others, that they were to come on the morrow without fail on pain of

punishment. I believe I have done no wrong.'

"The priest spoke again: 'Ay, ay, gentlemen, gentlemen, this is not

well. I know not how we shall manage to be rid of a portion of these

women.'

"Thereupon the King's judge said to the priest: 'Let your reverence be

content; we will arrange the business, and in the beginning we will only

call in the women of distinction. When they see that they must really

give in or be imprisoned, the others will soon withdraw themselves and

run away.'

"It was therefore determined, and made known to the servant, that the

above-mentioned ladies only should enter.

"Now when the servant announced this, the wife of the King's judge

began: 'We will by no means allow ourselves to be separated; where I

remain, there shall my train remain also. Say that we only beg they will

allow us to enter.' The servant reported this again to the council. Then

the King's judge waxed wrath and said with great vehemence: 'Go out

again and tell these simple women that they must not show themselves

disobedient and refractory, or they will learn how they will be

treated.' Then the servant went out again and delivered the command

seriously, but the good-wives held to their former opinion, and said

that they wished to know why they had been summoned, that none would

separate from the others; as it fared with one so should it fare with

all. On this there was great confusion and murmuring among the women,

which was heard by the gentlemen in the council-room.

"When the servant returned with this answer, they were sore afraid, and

would rather have seen the women I know not where. They therefore

determined unanimously to send out his honour the town-clerk, that he

might persuade them with earnest yet friendly words, that the most

distinguished of the women should enter, and the others return home, and

none should suffer. But it was all in vain. The women remained firm not

to separate from one another. And the judge's wife began, and said to

the town-clerk: 'Nay, nay, dear friend, do you think we are so simple,

and do not perceive the trick by which you would compel and force us

poor women, against our conscience, to change our faith? My husband and

the priest have not been consorting together all these days for nothing;

they have been joined together almost day and night; assuredly they have

either boiled or cooked a devil, which they may eat up themselves; I

shall not enter there. Where I remain, there will my train and following

remain also.' She turned herself round to the others and said: 'Women,

is this your will?' Then once more there were loud exclamations from the

women: 'Yea, yea, let it be so; we will all hold together as one man.'

"Hereupon his honour the town-clerk was much affrighted; he went hastily

back to the council, and reported woefully the state of affairs, adding,

that the council was in no small danger, for he had observed that almost

every woman had a large bunch of keys hanging at her side.[39] Upon this

their courage utterly and entirely evaporated; they hung their heads and

were at their wits' end; one wished himself here, another out there. Dr.

Melchior took heart and said to the priest: '_Potz-Sacrament!_ Most

reverend sir, if I had now but two hundred musketeers, I would soon mow

down the whole pa-pa-pack, even those who would fell down on their

knees.'

"At last his honour the town-clerk bethought himself of a device.

'Gentlemen, I know a way by which we can descend and escape from the

women. If the gentlemen will close both doors of the council-house, we

will silently make off with ourselves by the under council-room, through

the doors of the tower; thus they will not be aware what has become of

us. But I do not know where the keys of the tower are to be found.' This

good counsel pleased them all well, and the keys were sought for

carefully, but meanwhile the town-clerk was called in, and commanded to

signify to the women, that they should have a little patience. And the

town-clerk was to see how one could slip round to the front, and the

other to the back door, that they might suddenly run out and close the

doors behind them.

"This plan succeeded with the good-wives, of whom two hundred and

sixty-three were thus imprisoned. The town-clerk speedily opened the

tower gates, which had not been done for several years, and running back

exclaimed: 'Away, gentlemen, away, the coast is clear; but silence, for

God's sake silence, that the women may not become aware of it, otherwise

there will be the devil to pay.'

"Thereupon they ran away as fast as they could, part of them without

hats or gloves; some ran home, others to a neighbour's, each, where in

his hurry he thought he should be secure. All could confess to a state

of frightful terror. The priest ran at full trot up the church lane,

looking more behind than before him, to see whether the women were

following and would shake their keys at him during mass; he closed the

parsonage-house behind him, as the town-clerk had done the

council-house. He was so exhausted that he could neither eat nor drink;

both his ladies had enough to do to cool him.

"Now when the imprisoned women, most of whom sat by the window, heard

the rumour which was noised about the town, that the honourable

gentlemen had so cunningly gotten off, the wife of the King's judge ran

to the council-door, unlatched it, and called out with great amazement:

'The devil has carried away the rogues; see, there lies a hat, a

pocket-handkerchief and a glove, and all the doors are open. Come, let

us sit in council ourselves and send for our husbands; they shall come

on pain of punishment, and hear our behests.' Thereupon there was great

screaming and laughter amongst the wives, so that they might be heard

over the whole 'Ring.'

"At last the women divided into small parties by tens and twelves, they

pitied their husbands, children, and babies, who would have nothing to

eat. So they agreed, by means of certain women who were outside the

door, and desirous of joining the prisoners, to beg the King's judge to

free them, and to notify to them wherefore they had that day been

summoned to the council-house.

"In the meanwhile, however, the King's judge discovered, that he had

returned from the council-house a wiser man than when he had entered it

in the morning, and it struck him that all husbands might not be so evil

disposed towards their wives as he was. He saw also a tolerable

concourse of children and mob collecting round the council-house, who

were disposed to carry food and drink to the women; nay, some good

friends had already prepared a whole quarter cask of beer for the

refreshment of the dear women. Besides this also, a number of men had

collected together, desiring to know what their wives had done, that

they should be thus locked up. Then the King's judge took heart again,

and invited the gentlemen _cito citissime_ to his house for a necessary

conference. The four gentlemen of the council and the town-clerk were

found, but with great difficulty; but the priest had thoroughly

concealed himself, and sent to excuse himself on account of his

exhaustion and his need of rest. But it was determined to send another

embassage to him, to call to his mind that he must appear without fail,

as he had occasioned this transaction.

"Meanwhile the usher of the council came running to the council-house,

at whose bidding no one knows, and called through the closed door to his

wife, who was in conclave, and said to her: 'Tell the other women that

the gentlemen have reassembled at the house of the King's judge; they

will soon send out and open the council-house, that every one may return

home.' Thereupon the judge's wife answered: 'Yea, we will willingly have

patience, as we are quite comfortable here; but tell them they ought to

inform us why we were summoned and confined without trial.'

"The priest at last allowed himself to be prevailed on, and came to the

judge's house. They all began by complaining bitterly of their

exhaustion on account of the great anguish and danger they had

undergone, therefore a refreshing drink of wine was speedily passed

round amongst them; but what plans they afterwards made I have not been

able to gather distinctly, because all passed standing, and there was no

protocol concerning it. But certain it is, that as is usual with such

ragamuffins, the biters were bitten, and one threw dirt into the face of

the other. At last, however, they became unanimous to send an embassage

to the imprisoned ladies, to release them from the _cito_, and to

bespeak them in all friendship, that they might be induced to quit the

council-house. The persons empowered for this embassage were Herr Mümer,

Master Daniel, and Herr Notarius.

"When these arrived the doors were immediately opened, and the envoys

entered into the midst of the circle of women.

"Then began the town-clerk thus: 'Honourable, very honourable,

excellent, and most especially gracious and dear ladies! his reverence

the priest, together with his honour the King's judge and very wise

council, send greeting to the ladies assembled; they greatly wonder that

the women have so ill conceived and misunderstood their intentions; and

as they have so earnestly desired to know wherefore this has happened,

the aforesaid gentlemen have sent us to explain this in all truth.

First, as now the holy week is approaching, in which there will be held

by the Church special preachings on the Holy Sacrament, it has been

thought advisable to admonish the women christianly and faithfully, to

present themselves zealously thereat. Secondly, it is requested that at

the approaching Easter festival the women will likewise present

themselves collectively and show their benevolence, as his reverence the

priest's dues will be so poor in amount, owing to the small number of

citizens present.'

"After this harangue of the town-clerk, Master Daniel the joiner,

wishing to improve the matter, said: 'My very gracious ladies! Let it be

understood by the women that this is a friendly conference, and that no

constraint will be used; for it is not customary with my masters and the

very wise council to hang a man before they have caught him.'

"At this inconsiderate and incautious speech, which did not in the least

serve the council, Herr Mümer and Herr Notarius pushed him away; but

among the assembled wives there was great laughter and uproar. 'Yea!

yea! we understand well enough now; they compare us to people who are to

be hanged. What fellows you are, one with the other! Oh you faithless

rogues! you usurious corn-dealers! you woollen thieves! Thereupon the

judge's wife called out: 'Silence! silence, you women!' and said to

Master Daniel: 'Hear, dear brother-in-law, you do not understand the

matter, and are also too few to compel us against our conscience. Oh,

how God will punish you, and my husband also, who so openly acts against

his conscience! Your dear deceased father, a dignified Lutheran

ecclesiastic, taught you both very differently. Now you say you are good

Roman Catholics. Your new faith is necessary for your roguish tricks;

when you are drunk you speak shamelessly enough of the mother of God

herself, and when you go to your bad women you speak of yourselves as

the brothers of the Virgin Mary. Oh, if your gains were taken away from

you, which you make from your offices and the common property of the

town, and consume again in eating and drinking; if you were obliged to

resume your joiners' trade again, and work vigorously to keep yourselves

warm, how soon you would give up your Popery. May God punish you! Never

shall you deprive us of our faith, you yourselves will yet be hanged on

that account.'

"The burgomaster's wife said: 'If you had nothing else to say to us, the

priest might have done that from the pulpit, and it would not have been

necessary to confine us on that account. It is not thus I could be

compelled to go to church. Under our former pastors and preachers it was

a great pleasure to me to go to church, for I received there comfort

from the word of God; now I am only scandalized and troubled when I go

there. So that it cries out to God in heaven. As concerns the Easter

offerings, every one is free; he who has to give may do so.' Hereupon

the other women screamed out loudly: 'Yea, we will give to the priest,

the devil, as his due.' The honourable envoys were terrified at such

discourse, and begged to be allowed to withdraw, and said not a word

further, but departed.

"Now when the honourable envoys returned to the King's judge, the priest

and the other gentlemen had already gone away; they made their report,

and also went home. The women were now released from their arrest. But

this affair worked seriously in the head of the King's judge; he took it

to heart that he had been so ignominiously led astray by his ideas, and

feared that the upshot would bring him to eternal ridicule. He paced up

and down the room, murmuring to himself; at last he said: 'Give me

somewhat to eat.' When the table was spread, and dinner served up by his

maid-servant and children,--a dish of crab, a piece of white bread and

cheese and butter,--the worthy gentleman waxed wrath, took first the

good bread, then the tin butter-mould with the butter, and threw them

out of the window into the market-place; he threw the crab also all

about the room, and seized upon the sausage which was also on the table,

which the children would gladly have had, being hungry, as they had

eaten nothing the whole day. Nay, he was so furious that he ran out of

the room, dashing down the dishes and saucepans, and all that came to

his hand, so that a great concourse of neighbours was brought together.

After that, he ran up to his room and went on calling out and conducting

himself as if it was full of people. The following morning he rose

betimes and stole away, having delivered over his office to Dr.

Melchior.

"That day the other gentlemen rested till towards evening; then the

priest sent for the beadle, and commanded him to summon in his name and

that of Dr. Melchior, as the vice King's judge, the wife of the

burgomaster and the frau Geneussin to come to him at the parsonage early

in the morning after mass. This the beadle did. The burgomaster's wife

answered: 'Yea, yea, I will come, but I will first tell my lord.' But

when the beadle came to Frau Geneussin, and announced the same to her,

her son-in-law was with her, Herr Krekler, who was afterwards

burgomaster, who thus answered for her: 'Are the priest and Dr. Melchior

your masters? Are they the masters of my honoured mother-in-law? Reply

that she will not come without the commands of the burgomaster.' This

the beadle told to the burgomaster, who reflected thereupon, and at last

said: 'For my part they may go, I am content, so the blame cannot be

laid upon me.'

"On Friday morning, at the appointed hour, the wife of the burgomaster

went to the priest and likewise the judge's wife, who however was not

summoned, together with Frau Geneussin. Then the priest began to speak

with them in the most friendly way; he begged them very politely to

conform and accept the only holy religion which could make them blessed,

as their lords had done. They would see what comfort they would find in

it, and how well it would fare with them. To this the women forthwith

replied: 'No, we were otherwise instructed by our parents, and former

preachers; according to that we find ourselves right comfortable. We

cannot reconcile ourselves to your religion.' Thereupon the priest said:

'You women may come to church or to me as oft as you please, when you

have anxieties or scruples, and I will assuredly instruct you

assiduously.' The women answered: 'Your reverence need not give yourself

any trouble on our account, as we will not do so.' 'Ay,' said the

priest, 'then set the other women a good example, and at least go to

church and mass, and do not be a cause of offence to others who have

already declared that they would go if the women went.' The women

replied: 'We will not do it ourselves, but we will not prevent others

from doing so; these are matters of conscience whereof none can judge

but God.' Now when the priest saw that all was in vain, he entreated

them thus: 'Ay, ay, yet at least tell the other women that you have

begged for, and also obtained, fourteen days for consideration.' Then

answered the women almost with indignation: 'No, dear sir, we were not

taught to lie by our parents, and we will not learn it from you; we beg

you will excuse us.' So they departed therefrom.

"But whilst the three women were with the priest, a great multitude of

women collected together with marvellous rapidity, many more than on the

first occasion. Herr Schwob Franze perceiving this, came running panting

with haste to the burgomaster and said: 'Sir, I pray you for God's sake

have a care, and prevent the priest from meddling with the women; they

have assembled together again in a great multitude, the whole of the

bread-market and all the houses in Kirchgasse are full of them; God help

us, they will slay us, together with the priest. I made the best of my

way out from them.'

"The good burgomaster was so ill in bed that he could neither move hand

nor foot. He sent hastily to the priest and told him in plain German

what a hazardous business he had begun, the like of which had never been

heard of in any town. If he were to meet with any annoyance from the

women the fault would be his own.

"Thereupon the priest said: 'Ah no! Herr Burgomaster, let not your

worship be thus angered. I see that I have been led astray by that

inconsiderate man Dr. Melchior, who represented the matter quite

otherwise. I beg that your worship will signify to the women, that they

may return to their homes; assuredly what has happened shall not happen

again, of that I hereby assure your worship.' When the women heard this,

and that nothing further had happened to the ladies, as has been related

above, the women were well content, went home and laid aside their

bundles and bunches of keys, nevertheless, not out of reach, that they

might have them at hand day or night in case of need."

Here ends the old narrative. The priest was obliged the following year

to leave Löwenberg ignominiously, as he would not desist from his

scandalous proceedings. Amongst other things he had a public chop and

beer-house erected for the old Silesian beer. The spiteful Dr. Melchior

became afterwards in desperation a soldier, and was hanged at Prague.

And the valiant women,--we hope they took refuge with their husbands at

Breslau or in Poland.

After 1632, the town decayed more and more every year, now under Swedish

or Imperial, now under Evangelical, or Roman Catholic ministers; in

1639, the town contained only forty citizens, and had a debt of a ton

and a half of gold; in 1641, the citizens themselves unroofed their

houses in order not to pay taxes, and dwelt in thatched huts. When the

peace came, the town was almost entirely in ruins. Eight years later, in

1656, there were again one hundred and twenty-one citizens in Löwenberg;

and about eight hundred and fifty inhabitants, eighty-seven per cent, of

the population had perished.

Pictures of German Life in the XVth, XVIth, and XVIIth Centuries, Vol. II. · 第 5 / 12 章