THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.--THE PEACE.
The peace was signed; the ambassadors had solemnized the ratification by
shaking hands, and trumpeters rode about the streets announcing the
happy event.
At Nuremberg the Imperialists and the Swedes held a peace banquet in the
great saloon of the council-house; the lofty vaulted hall was
splendidly lighted; betwixt the chandeliers hung down thirty kinds of
flowers and real fruits, bound together with gold tinsel; four choirs
were stationed for festive music, and the six classes of invited guests
were assembled in six different rooms. On the table stood two prodigious
show dishes, a triumphal arch, and a hexagonal mound covered with
mythological and allegorical figures with Latin and German devices. The
banquet was served up in four courses, in each course were a hundred and
fifty dishes, then came the fruits in silver dishes, and on real dwarf
trees by which the whole table was covered; amidst all this, fine
frankincense was burnt, which produced a very agreeable odour.
Afterwards the upper leaves of the table were taken away by pieces, then
the table was covered again with napkins, and plates strewed over wish
flowers made of sugar, and now came the confectionery: among these there
were gigantic marchpanes on two silver shells, each of which weighed ten
pounds. And when the health of his Imperial Majesty of Vienna and his
Kindly Majesty of Sweden was drank, together with the prosperity of the
peace which had been concluded, fifteen large and small pieces were
discharged from the citadel. When this peace banquet had lasted far on
into the night, the Field-marshals and Generals present, wished on
parting to play once more at being soldiers. They caused arms to be
brought into the hall, chose the two ambassadors as captains; his
Illustrious and Serene Highness Herr Carl Gustav, Count Palatine on the
Rhine, afterwards King of Sweden, and his Excellency General
Piccolomini; but for a corporal they chose Field-Marshal Wrangel; and
all the Generals, colonels, and lieutenant-colonels were made
musketeers. Thus these gentlemen marched round the table, fired a salvo,
went in good order to the citadel, and there fired off the pieces many
times. On their return they were playfully discharged by Colonel Kraft
and dismissed the service, as now there was to be peace for ever. Two
oxen were slaughtered for the poor, and there was a great distribution
of bread, also for six hours red and white wine flowed from a lion's
jaw. For thirty years had tears and blood flowed from a greater lion's
jaw.
Like the honourable ambassadors, the people prepared a festive
celebration in every town, nay in every half-destroyed village. How
great was the effect of the intelligence of peace on the German nation
may be learned from some affecting details. To the old country people
the peace appeared as a return of their youth; they looked back to the
rich harvests of their childhood, thickly populated villages, the merry
Sundays under the hewed-down village lindens, and the happy hours which
they had passed with their ruined and deceased relations and companions.
They saw themselves happier, more manly, and better than they had been
during thirty years of misery and degradation. But the youth of the
country--a hard war-engendered demoralized race--discovered in it the
approach of a wonderful time which appeared to them like a legend from a
distant country. The time when on every acre of field, the thick yellow
ears of corn would wave in the wind; when in every stall the cows would
low, and in every sty a fat pig would be lying; when they themselves
should drive with two horses in the fields, merrily cracking their
whips, and when there would be no enemy's soldiers to snatch rough
caresses from their sisters or sweethearts; when they would no longer
have to lie in wait in the bushes, with pitchforks and rusty muskets,
for the stragglers, nor to sit as fugitives in the dismal gloom of the
wood by the graves of the slain; when the village roofs would be without
holes, and the farm-yards without ruined barns; when the howl of the
wolf would not be heard every night at the yard gate; when their village
churches would again have glass windows, and beautiful bells; when in
the soiled choir of the church, there should arise a new altar with a
silk cover, a silver crucifix and a gilt chalice; and when one day the
young lads would again lead their brides to the altar, bearing the
virgin wreaths in their hair. A passionate, almost painful joy
palpitated through all hearts; even the wildest brood of the war, the
soldiery, were seized with it. The stern rulers themselves, the Princes
and their ambassadors, felt that this great boon of peace would be the
salvation of Germany. The festival was celebrated with the greatest
fervour and solemnity of which the people were capable. From the same
circle of village recollections from which examples have already been
taken, the following description of a festival is placed, in
juxtaposition to that of the Princes and Field-marshals.
Döllstedt, a fine village in the dukedom of Gotha, had suffered
severely. In 1636 the Hatzfeld corps had fallen upon the place, had
committed great damage, plundered the church, burnt and broken off the
woodwork, as had been prophesied by the pastor Herr Deckner shortly
before. "This dear man," thus writes his successor, the pastor, Herr
Trümper, "had rebuked his flock with righteous zeal on account of their
sins; but they had laughed at his rebukes and warnings, had treated him
with anger and ingratitude, and as he lamented in 1634, with weeping
eyes, had cut down his hops from the poles, and carried off the corn
from his fields. Thus he could only proclaim to them God's righteous
judgment on such hardened hearts. Not only publicly from the pulpit, but
also a few hours before his blessed departure, he had thus lamented:
'Ah! thou poor Döllstedt! it will go ill with thee after my decease!'
Thereupon he turned, with the assistance of the attendants, towards the
church, and raised his weary head, struggling ineffectually with death,
as if he wished once more, from the corner of his room, to see the
church, in the service of which his life had been passed, and said: 'Ah!
thou dear, dear church! How will it fare with thee after my death? They
will sweep thee up with a besom.'"
His prophecy was fulfilled. The village in 1636 had to liquidate war
damages to the amount 5500 of gulden, and between 1627 and 1637 it
amounted altogether to 29,595 gulden, so that the inhabitants by degrees
disappeared and the place remained quite desolate; in 1636 there were
only two married couples in the village. In the year 1641, after Banner
and, again in the winter, the French had been quartered in it, half an
acre of corn was sown, and there were four couples dwelling there. By
the zealous care of Duke Ernest the Good, of Gotha, the deserted
villages in his country were comparatively quickly occupied by men. In
1650, therefore, the jubilee and peace festival could be solemnized in
Döllstedt. The description of it is given, as it is recorded in the
church books, by the then Pastor Trümper.
"On the 19th of August, at four o'clock in the morning, we, together
with our coadjutors and some of the householders of Gotha, mounted our
tower, and celebrated with music our morning prayer. Towards six
o'clock, as happened the preceding day at one o'clock; they began to
ring the bells for a quarter of an hour, and again, for the same length
of time, at half after seven. Meanwhile, the whole population, man and
woman, young and old, except those who assisted at the ringing,
assembled before the gate: 1st, the women-folk stood on one side; before
them was a figure of Peace, which the noble maidens had dressed up
beautifully, in a lovely green silk dress and other decorations; on her
head was placed a beautiful green wreath intermingled with gold
spangles, and in her hand a green branch. 2nd. On the other side towards
the village stood the men, and in front of them Justice in a beautiful
white garment, with a green wreath round her head, and bearing in her
hands a naked sword and gold scales. 3rd. Towards the fields on the same
side, stood the young men with guns, and some with naked swords, and
before them Mars, dressed as a soldier, and bearing in his hands a
crossbow. 4th. In the middle near me, stood the scholars, householders,
and the coadjutors. Then did the recollection come across me, of how
often we had been obliged to quit our homes and flee from our gates, our
eyes overflowing with tears, and when the storm was passed, had returned
home again with joy, notwithstanding that we found all devastated,
ruined, and turned topsy-turvy. Now we thought it fitting thus to honour
our dear God, going out in front of our gates, and as He had preserved
us from the like devastation and necessity for flight and escape, by the
gracious boon of the noble and long-desired peace, we desired now to go
to his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise, and
would for that raise our voices with one accord and sing: 'To God alone
most high be honour, &c.' 5th. Whilst these strophes were being chanted,
Peace and Justice approached one another nearer and nearer. At the
words: 'All feuds are now at an end,' those who held naked swords
sheathed them, and those who had guns fired some salvos and turned
themselves round. Peace beckoned to some who had been hereto appointed;
these took from Mars, who appeared to defend himself his crossbow, and
broke it in twain; Peace and Justice met together and kissed each other.
6th. Thereupon the chanting, which had been begun, was continued, and we
prepared to go. Before the scholars, went Andreas Ehrhardt, adorned to
the utmost, with a staff in his hand wound round with green garlands.
Then followed the scholars with green wreaths on their heads and green
branches in their hands, and they wore short white garments; then came
the assistants and musicians; after these, I, the Pastor, together with
the Herr Pastor of Vargula, who had come to me. After us came the
maidens, the little ones in front, and the taller ones behind, all
adorned to the utmost, and green wreaths on their heads. After these
went Peace, and behind her the boys, who carried a basket of rolls and a
dish of apples, which were afterwards distributed among the children;
item, all kinds of fruits of the field.
"These were followed by the noble maidens, together with their
relations, whom they had bidden; after them nobles from Seebach, Saxony,
and others who had accompanied them. After these came Justice, and
behind her, magistrates and assessors, all bearing white staves in their
hands, twined with green garlands. Then followed the Ensign Christian
Heum, in his best attire, with a staff in his hand, on which he leant,
but it was encircled with a green garland. Afterwards came the men in
pairs with green bouquets in their hands; the men were followed by Mars
bound, then the young lads with their guns reversed. There followed the
Sergeant-major Herr Dietrich Grün in his finery, with a staff in his
hand like the Ensign; and after him the women-folk, all also in pairs in
their order, and all passed singing through the village to the church.
When the aforesaid song was finished we sang, 'Now Praise the Lord, my
soul.'
"In the church there was preaching and singing conformable to the royal
ordinance. After the service was completed, we went in the former order
from the church to the Platz in front of the inn; there the men on one
side, and the women on the other, in half-circles, closed in, forming a
fine wide circle, and during their progress they sang, 'Now rejoice
together, dear Christians.' When the circle was formed I gave thanks to
all collectively, that they had not only, according to the proclamation
of the high and mighty princely government, obediently observed this
solemnity, but also had gone out at my desire, all together, noble and
humble alike, to the gates, and had followed me in such beautiful order
to church, &c., and I admonished them to attend again zealously the
afternoon service. And truly, as I said that it would be well for every
one to come from their houses to church in the afternoon, they did all
reassemble as before in front of the inn; Peace and Justice also were
there again in their dress, but Mars had disappeared. When I was
informed of this, I went during the last peal of the bells with the
scholars, the coadjutors, and the householders out by the back gate
through the church lane to the church, when every one again, as before,
followed me into the church. There we then sang, 'Now let us sing unto
the Lord,' &c. From the church we returned in the same order, again
singing, 'Praise the Lord, praise the Lord,' &c., to the above-mentioned
place, where I again gave thanks both to strangers and townspeople, with
heartfelt wishes for peace. And here the six groschen, rolls, and ripe
apples were distributed among the children."
It is known that the great peace came very slowly, like the recovery
from a mortal illness. The years from 1648 to 1650, from the conclusion
of the peace to the celebration of the festival, were among the most
grievous of that iron time; exorbitant war taxes were imposed, the
armies of the different countries lay encamped in the provinces till
they could be paid off, the oppression which they exercised on the
unhappy inhabitants was so fearful, that a despairing cry arose from the
people, which mingled itself with the wrangling of the negotiating
parties. To this was added a plague of another kind; the whole country
swarmed with a rabble that had no masters; bands of discharged soldiers
with the camp followers, troops of beggars, and great hordes of robbers,
roved about from one territory to another; they quartered themselves by
force on those villages which were still inhabited, and established
themselves in the deserted huts. The villagers also, provided with bad
weapons and disused to labour, thought it sometimes more satisfactory to
rob, than to till the fields, and made secret roving expeditions into
the neighbouring territories, the Evangelical into the Catholic
countries, and _vice versâ_. The foreign children of a lawless race, the
gipsies, had increased in number and audacity; fantastically dressed,
with heavily laden carts, stolen horses, and naked children, they
encamped in great numbers round the stone trough of the village green:
whenever the ruler was powerful and the officials active, the wild
rovers were encountered with energy. The villagers of the dukedom of
Gotha were still obliged, in 1649, to keep watch from the church towers,
to guard the bridges and fords, and to give an alarm whenever they
perceived any of these marching bands. A well-regulated system of police
was the first sign of that new feeling of responsibility which the
governments had acquired: every one who wished to settle down was
encouraged to do so. Whoever was established, had to render an account
of how much land he had cultivated, of the condition of his house and
farm, and whether he had any cattle. New registers of the farms and
inhabitants were prepared, new taxes on money and on natural products
were imposed; and by the severe pressure of these, the villagers were
compelled to labour. The villages were gradually reinhabited; many
families who had fled to the towns during the war repaired their
devastated farms; others returned from the mountains or foreign
countries; disbanded soldiers and camp followers sometimes bought fields
and empty houses with the remainder of their booty, or returned to their
native villages. There was much marrying and baptizing.
But the exhaustion of the people was still lamentably great. The arable
land, much of which had lain fallow, was sown without the necessary
manure; not a little remained overrun with wild underwood and weeds, and
long continued as osier land. The ruined districts were sometimes bought
by the neighbouring villages, and in some places two or three small
communities united themselves together.
For many years after the war, the appearance of the villages was most
comfortless; one may perceive that this was the case in Thuringia, from
the transactions with the Government. The householders of Siebleben and
some other communities round Gotha, had held, from the middle ages, the
right of having timber free from the wooded hills. In 1650, the
government demanded from them, for the exercise of this right, a small
tax upon oats: some of the communities excused themselves, as they were
too poor to be able to think of rebuilding their damaged houses. Ten
years after, the community of Siebleben had forty boys who paid small
school fees, and the yearly offering in the church amounted to more than
fourteen gulden. A portion of this offering was spent in alms to
strangers, and it is perceptible, from the carefully kept accounts, what
a stream of beggars of all kinds passed through the country; disbanded
soldiers, cripples, the sick and aged; amongst them were lepers with
certificates from their infirmaries, also exiles from Bohemia and
Hungary, who had left their homes on account of their religion, banished
noblemen from England, Ireland, and Poland, persons collecting money
for the ransom of their relatives from Turkish imprisonment, travellers
who had been plundered by highwaymen, and others, such as a blind
pastor from Denmark with five children; the strangers came prepared
with testimonials. The governments, however, were unwearied in their
efforts against harbouring such vagrants.
Much has been written concerning the devastation of the war; but the
great work is still wanting, that would concentrate the statistical
notices which have been preserved in all the different territories:
however enormous the labour may be, it must be undertaken, for it is
only from this irrefragable computation, that the full greatness of the
calamity can be understood. The details hitherto known scarcely amount
to a probable valuation of the loss which Germany suffered in men,
beasts of burden, and productive power. The following inferences only
attempt to express the views of an individual, which a few examples will
support.
The condition of the provinces of Thuringia and Franconia is not ill
adapted for a comparison of the past with the present; neither of them
were more afflicted by the visitation of war than other countries; the
state of cultivation of both provinces, up to the present time, answers
pretty accurately to the general average of German industry and
agriculture: neither of them are on the whole rich: both were hilly
countries, without large rivers, or any considerable coal strata, with
low lands, of which only certain tracts were distinguished by especial
fertility, and were up to modern times devoted to agriculture, garden
culture, and small mining industry. Thus this portion of Germany had
known no powerful stream of human enterprise or capital, nor, on the
other hand, was it the theatre of the destructive wars of Louis XIV.'s
time, and the rulers, especially the grandson of Frederic the Wise, were
even in the worst times tolerably sparing of the national strength.
There have been preserved to us from these districts, amongst other
things, accurate statistical notices of twenty communities, which once
were in the Hennebergen domain; but now, with the exception of one that
is Bavarian, belong to Saxe Meiningen. It is nowhere mentioned, and from
their condition need not be concluded, that the devastation in them had
been greater than in other portions of the province. The government in
1649 ordered an accurate report to be given of the number of inhabited
houses, barns, and head of cattle that existed when the worst sufferings
of the war began in 1634. According to the reports delivered by the
magistrates of the places, there had perished in the twenty communities
more than eighty-two per cent, of families, eighty-five per cent, of
horses, more than eighty-three of goats, and eighty-two of cows, and
more than sixty-three per cent. of houses. The remaining houses were
described as in many places damaged and in ruins, the still surviving
horses as lame and blind, and the fields and meadows as devastated and
much overgrown with underwood; but the sheep were everywhere altogether
destroyed.[40]
It is a bloody and terrible tale which these numbers tell us. More than
four fifths of the population, far more than four fifths of their
property were destroyed. And in what a condition was the remainder!
Precisely similar was the fate of the smaller provincial towns, as far
as one can see from the preserved data. We will give only one example
from the same province. The old church records of Ummerstadt, an
agricultural town near Coburg, famed, from olden times, throughout the
country for its good pottery, report as follows:--"Although in the year
1632 the whole country, as also the said little town, was very populous,
so that it alone contained more than one hundred and fifty citizens, and
up to eight hundred souls, yet from the ever-continuing war troubles,
and the constant quartering of troops, the people became in such wise
enervated, that from great and incessant fear, a pestilence sent upon us
by the all-powerful and righteous God, carried off as many as five
hundred men in the years 1635 and 1636; on account of this lamentable
and miserable condition of the time, no children were born into the
world in the course of two years. Those whose lives were still prolonged
by God Almighty, have from hunger, the dearness of the times, and the
scarcity of precious bread, eaten and lived upon bran, oil-cakes, and
linseed husks, and many also have died of it; many also have been
dispersed over all countries, most of whom have never again seen their
dear fatherland. In the year 1640, during the Saalfeldt encampment,
Ummerstadt became a city of the dead or of shadows; for during eighteen
weeks no man dared to appear therein, and all that remained was
destroyed. Therefore the population became quite thin, and there were
not more than a hundred souls forthcoming." In 1850 the place had eight
hundred and ninety-three inhabitants.
Still more striking is another observation, which may be made from the
tables of the Meiningen villages. It is only in our century that the
number of men and cattle of all kinds has again reached the height which
it had already attained in 1634. Nay, the number of houses was still in
1849 less than in 1634, although, there the inmates of the smallest
village houses, even the poorest, still anxiously endeavour to preserve
their own dwellings. It is true that there is a trifling increase of the
number of inhabitants in 1849 over that in 1634; but even this increase
is dubious when we consider that the number of inhabitants in 1634 had
probably already experienced a diminution from sixteen years of war.
Thus we are assuredly justified in concluding that two centuries were
necessary, at least for this tract of Germany, to restore the population
and productive power of the country to its former standard. These
assumptions are supported by other observations. The agriculture of the
country, before the Thirty years' war, nay even the relative proportion
of the value of corn to that of silver, at a time when the export of
corn was only exceptional, lead to the same conclusions.
It is true that during the last two centuries, agriculture, owing to the
mighty effects of foreign traffic, has developed itself in an entirely
new direction. The countryman also now cultivates field vegetables,
clover, and other herbage for fodder, which were unknown before the
Thirty years' war, and agricultural produce is more lucrative for an
equal amount of population. Perhaps our ancestors lived in a poorer
style, and farmed less. We can compare the stock of cattle. The number
of cattle kept now in the villages is precisely the same as before the
war; they have still the short, thick, curly-woolled Spanish herds,
which used to be reared in the pens of the peasants; the old wool fell
in long locks; but judging from the value of the cloth and stuffs woven
from it, and the price of sheep at that time, it must have been good.
On the other hand, the stock of horses has diminished by three fourths
in comparison with 1634. This striking circumstance can only be thus
explained: that the traditions of the troopers of the middle ages
exercised an influence even upon agriculture; that the rearing of horses
was more profitable than now, on account of the bad roads which made a
distant transport of corn impossible, whilst the lowing of cattle in the
narrow farm-yards of the towns was so general that the sale of milk and
butter paid little; and finally, that a larger portion of the country
people were better able to maintain teams. The breaking up of the ground
was then, as may be seen from the old farm books in Thuringia,
somewhat--but not considerably--less than now. In the present day the
number of goats and of cattle belonging to small farmers has increased,
as also the number of oxen, which probably in Middle and Southern
Germany are now finer and higher bred than formerly. This is a decided
progress of the present day. But on the whole, reckoning the amount of
fodder required, the number of beasts which are maintained with
advantage is very inconsiderably larger at present than in 1634.
Thus Germany, in comparison with its happier neighbours in England and
the Low Countries, was thrown back about two hundred years.
Still greater were the changes which the war made in the intellectual
life of the nation. Above all among the country people. Many old customs
passed away, life became aimless and full of suffering. In the place of
the old household gear the rudest forms of modern furniture were
introduced; the artistic chalices, and old fonts, and almost all the
adornments of the churches, had disappeared, and were succeeded by a
tasteless poverty in the village churches, which still continues. For
more than a century after the war the peasant vegetated, penned in,
almost as much as his herds, whilst his pastor watched him as a
shepherd, and he was shorn by the landed proprietors and rulers of his
country. There was a long period of gloomy suffering. The price of corn
in the depopulated country was, for fifty years after the war, even
lower than before. But the burdens upon landed property rose so high,
that for a long time, land together with house and farm, bore little
value, and sometimes were offered in vain as acquittance for service and
imposts. Severer than ever was the pressure of vassalage, worst of all
in the former Sclave countries, in which the peasantry were kept down by
a numerous nobility. With respect to their marriages, they were placed
under an unnatural and compulsory guardianship; strict care was taken
that the son of the countryman should not evade by flight the servitude
which was to weigh down his future. He could not travel without a
written permission; even ship and raft masters were forbidden under
severe penalties to take such fugitives into their service.
Much to be lamented is the injury to civilization which took place in
the devastated cities, especially the return to luxury, love of
pleasure, and coarse sensuality, the want of common sense and
independence, the cringing towards superiors and heartlessness towards
inferiors. They are the ancient sufferings of a decaying race. That the
self-government of cities was more and more infringed upon by the
princes, was frequently fortunate, for the administrators were too often
deficient in judgment and feeling of duty.
The new constitution of governments which had arisen during the war,
laid its iron hands on town and country. The old territories of the
German empire were changed into despotic bureaucratic states. The ruler
governed through his officials, and kept a standing army against his
enemies; to maintain his "state," that is, his courtiers, officials and
soldiers, was the task of the people. But to make this possible, it was
necessary to promote carefully the increase of the population, and the
greater tax-paying capacity of the subject. Some princes, especially the
Brandenburgers, did this in a liberal spirit, and thus in this dark
period, by increasing the power of their new state, laid the foundation
of the greatness of their houses. Others indeed lavished the popular
strength, in coarse imitation of French demoralization.
It was a mortal crisis through which Germany had passed, and dearly was
the peace bought. But that which was most important had been preserved,
the continuity of German development, the continuance of the great
inward process, by which the German nation raised itself from the
bondage of the middle ages to a higher civilization.
The long struggle, politically considered, was a defensive war of the
Protestant party against the intolerance of the old faith and the
attacks of the Imperial power. This defensive struggle had begun by an
ill-timed offensive movement in Bohemia. The head of the House of
Hapsburg had law and right on his side, so long as he only put down this
movement. His opponents put themselves in the position of
revolutionists, which could only be vindicated by success. But from the
day when the Emperor made use of his victory to suppress by means of
Jesuits and soldiers the sovereignty of the German princes, and the old
rights of the cities, he became in his turn the political offender whose
bold venture was repulsed by the last efforts of the nation. But here we
must take a higher point of view, from which the proceedings of
Ferdinand II. appear still more insupportable. Just a hundred years
before his reign, all the good spirits of the German nation fought on
the side of the Emperor, when he, in opposition to existing rights and
old usages, had founded a German Church and German state. Since that,
the family of Charles V. had for a century, a short time excepted, done
much by laborious scheming, or listless indifference, to destroy the
last source of this new life, independence of spirit, thought and faith:
it was for a century, a short time excepted, the opponent of the
national German life; it had its Spanish and Italian alliances, and had
arrayed the Romish Jesuits against the indigenous civilization of the
nation, aided, alas! by some of the German princes. It was by such means
that it had endeavoured to become great in Germany, and in the same
spirit, an overzealous Emperor called forth the bloody decision. On his
head, not on the German people or Princes, lies the guilt of this
endless war. The Protestant chiefs, with the exception of the lesser
rulers, only sought to submit and make peace with their Emperor. It was
only for a few years they were led into open war, by the arrogance of
Wallenstein, the scorn of Vienna, and the warlike pressure of Gustavus
Adolphus; the alliance of the great electoral houses of Saxony and
Brandenburg with Sweden did not last four years; at the first
opportunity they receded, and during the last period of the war,
neutrality was their strongest policy.
The princes obtained by the peace the object of their defensive
opposition; the extravagant designs of the Imperial Court were crushed.
Germany was free. Yes, free! Devastated and powerless, with its western
frontier for a century the fighting-ground and spoil of France, it had
still to bear the outpouring of an accumulated measure of humiliation
and shame. But whoever would now clench their hands at this, let them
beware of raising them against the Westphalian peace. The consequences
that followed, the laying in ashes of the Palatinate, the seizure of
Strasburg, the loss of Alsace and Lorraine, were not owing to this
peace. The cause of all this, was long before the Thirty years' war; it
had been foreseen by patriotic men long beforehand. Since the Smalkaldic
war the sovereignty of the German Princes, and the independence of
portions of the empire, were the only guarantee for a national
progressive civilization. One may deeply lament, but can easily
understand this. Now at last this independence had been legally
established by streams of blood. Whoever considers the year 1813,--the
first kindling of the people since 1648,--as full of glory; whoever has
at any time ennobled himself by a sense of duty and enlarged moral
sentiments, acquired from the severe teaching of Kant and his followers;
whoever has at any time derived pleasure from the highest that man is
capable of understanding, and from the nature and souls of his own and
foreign people; whoever has at any time felt with transport the beauty
of the new German poetry, the Nathan, Faust, and Guillaume Tell; whoever
has taken a heartfelt participation in the free life of our science and
arts, in the great discoveries of our natural philosophers, and in the
powerful development of German industry and agriculture, must remember,
that with the peace of Münster and Osnaburg began the period in which
the political foundation of the development of a higher life was in a
great measure secured.
The war had nevertheless consequences which we must still deeply
deplore; it has long severed the third of Germany from intellectual
communion of spirit with their kindred races. The German hereditary
possessions of the Imperial family have ever since been united in a
special state. Powerfully and incessantly has the foreign principle
worked which there prevails. For a long time the depressed nation
scarcely felt the loss. In Germany the opposition between Romanism and
Protestantism had been weakened, and in the following century it was in
a great measure overcome. Even those territories which were compelled by
their rulers to maintain their old faith, had participated in the slow
and laborious progress which had been made since the peace. It is not to
be denied that the Protestant countries long remained the leaders, but
in spite of much opposition, those of the old faith followed the new
stream, and the results of increasing civilization flowed in brotherly
union from one soul to another; joy and suffering were in general
mutual, and as the political requirements and wishes of the Protestant
and Roman Catholics were the same, the feeling of intellectual unity
became gradually more active. It was otherwise in the distant countries
which Ferdinand II. and his successors had bequeathed as conquered
property. The losses which the German races had experienced were great,
but the injury to the Austrian nationalities was incomparably greater.
To them had happened what must now appear, to any one who examines
accurately, most terrible. Almost the whole national civilization, which
in spite of all hindrances had been developed for more than a century,
was expelled with an iron rod. The mass of the people remained; their
leaders--opulent landed proprietors of the old indigenous race, manly
patriots, men of distinguished character and learning, and intelligent
pastors, were driven into exile. The exiles have never been counted, who
perished of hunger, and the horrors of war; those also who settled in
foreign countries can scarcely be reckoned. Undoubtedly their collective
number amounted to hundreds of thousands. It is thanks to the Bohemian
exiles, that Electoral Saxony recovered its loss in men and capital
quicker than other countries. Yet it is not the numbers, however great,
which give a true representation of the loss. For those who fell into
calamity on account of their faith and political convictions were the
noblest spirits, the leaders of the people, the representatives of the
highest civilization of the time. But it was not the loss of them alone
that made the Emperor's dominions so weak and dormant; the millions also
that remained behind were crushed. Driven by every low motive, by rough
violence or the prospect of earthly advantage, from one faith to
another, they had lost all self-respect and the last ideal which even
the most commonplace man preserves, the feeling that he has a place in
his heart that cannot be bought. Everywhere throughout Germany in the
worst times after the war, there were thousands who were fortified by
the feeling that they also, like their fathers and neighbours, had
resisted armed conversion to the death. In the converted Austrian
territories of the Emperor, this feeling was rare. For almost a century
and a half the Bohemian and German races vegetated in a dreary dream
life. The Bohemian countryman hung the various saints of the restored
church by the side of his pictures of Huss and Zisko, but he kept a holy
lamp burning before the old heretic; the citizen of Vienna and Olmutz
accustomed himself to speak of the Empire and Germany as of a foreign
land; he accommodated himself to Hungarians, Italians, and Croats, but
at the same time he remained a stranger in the new state in which he was
now domiciled. Little did he care for the categorical imperative,
imposed by the new worldly wisdom; later he learned that Schiller was a
German poet. Only then did a new spring begin for the Germans, in which
freedom of mind and beauty of soul were sought for as the highest aim of
earthly life; when the new study of antiquity inspired them with
enthusiasm, when the genius of Goethe irradiated the court of Weimar,
then sounded from dormant Austria, the deepest and most mysterious of
arts, a fullness of melody. There also the spirit of the people had
found touching expression in Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven.