“Did not I myself write that the complaint which was sent by thee to
the elector, is still unknown to him? If his servants suppress suits
behind his back, or abuse his sacred name, without his knowledge, who
but God shall call him to account for the choice of such servants, and
as for thee, abominable man, who has entitled thee to judge of him?”
“Well,” answered Kohlhaas, “then if the elector does not expel me, I
will return back again to the community which is under his protection.
Give me, as I said before, a safe conduct to Dresden, and I will
disperse the band I have assembled at the Castle of Lützen, and will
once more bring the suit, with which I failed, before the tribunal of
the country.”
Luther, with a dissatisfied countenance, turned over the papers which
lay upon his table and was silent. The bold position which this man
took in the state offended him, and thinking over the decree which had
been sent to the squire from Kohlhaasenbrück, he asked “what he wanted
from the tribunal at Dresden?”
“The punishment of the squire, according to law,” answered Kohlhaas,
“the restoration of my horses to their former condition, and
compensation for the injury which has been suffered both by me and my
man Herse, who fell at Mühlberg, through the violence inflicted upon
us.”
“Compensation for injury!” cried Luther, “Why thou hast raised sums by
thousands from Jews and Christians, in bonds and pledges, for the
satisfaction of thy wild revenge. Wilt thou fix an amount if there
should be a question about it?”
“God forbid,” said Kohlhaas, “I do not ask back again my house and
farm, or the wealth that I possessed--no more than the expenses of
burying my wife! Herse’s old mother will bring in an account of
medical expenses, and a specification of what her son lost at
Tronkenburg, while for the damage which I sustained by not selling my
horses, the government can settle that by a competent arbitrator.”
“Terrible and incomprehensible man,” said Luther, gazing at him. “When
thy sword hath inflicted on the squire the most frightful vengeance
that can be conceived, what can induce thee to press for a sentence
against him, the sharpness of which, if it should take effect, would
inflict a wound of such slight importance?”
Kohlhaas answered, while a tear rolled down his cheek: “Revered sir,
the affair has cost me my wife. Kohlhaas would show the world that she
fell in the performance of no injustice. Concede to my will on these
points, and let the tribunal speak. In every other matter that may
come under discussion, I yield.”
“Look,” said Luther, “what thou askest, supposing circumstances to be
such as the general voice reports, is just; and if thou hadst
endeavoured, without revenging thyself on thine own account, to lay
thine affair before the elector for his decision, I have no doubt that
thy request would have been granted, in every point. But all things
considered, wouldst thou not have done better, if, for thy Redeemer’s
sake, thou hadst forgiven the squire, taken the horses, lean and
worn-out as they were, mounted them, and ridden home upon them to
fatten them in their own stable at Kohlhaasenbrück.”
“I might or I might not,” answered Kohlhaas, going to the window, “Had
I known that I should have to set them up with my own wife’s heart’s
blood, then, reverend sir, I might have done as you say, and not have
grudged a bushel of oats. But now they have cost me so dear, the
matter, as I think, had better take its course. So let the sentence be
passed as is my right, and let the squire feed my horses.”
Luther, in the midst of contending thoughts, again returned to his
papers, and said that he would himself communicate with the elector on
the affair. In the meanwhile he told Kohlhaas to keep himself quiet at
the Castle of Lützen, adding, that if the elector consented to a
safe-conduct it should be made known to him by means of placards.
“Whether,” he added, as Kohlhaas stooped to kiss his hand, “the elector
will show mercy instead of justice, I know not, for I understand he has
collected an army, and is on the point of seizing thee at the Castle of
Lützen. Nevertheless, as I told thee before, there shall be no want of
trouble on my part.” Upon this he arose and seemed about to dismiss
him. Kohlhaas thought that this intercession was perfectly
satisfactory, and Luther was signifying a farewell with his hand, when
the former suddenly dropped on his knee before him, and said he had one
request deep at heart. At Whitsuntide--a period when he was usually
accustomed to take the sacrament--he had not gone to church, on account
of his martial expedition, and he begged that Luther would have the
kindness to receive his confession without further preparation, and to
administer to him the supper of the Lord.
Luther, eyeing him keenly, said after a short reflection: “Yes,
Kohlhaas, I will do it. But recollect that the Lord, whose body thou
desirest, forgave his enemy. Wilt thou,” he added, as Kohlhaas looked
confused, “likewise forgive the squire who offended thee, go to the
Tronkenburg, set thyself upon thy horses, and ride home to fatten them
at Kohlhaasenbrück?”
“Reverend sir,” said Kohlhaas, cooling as he grasped his hand, “Even
the Lord did not forgive all his enemies. Let me forgive their
highnesses, the two electors, the castellan and the bailiff, the rest
of the Von Tronkas, and whoever besides may have injured me in this
matter, but let me compel the squire to feed my horses.”
Luther, on hearing these words, turned his back upon him with a
displeased countenance, and rung the bell. Kohlhaas, as a servant with
a light announced himself in the antechamber, rose astounded, and
drying his eyes, from the ground, and Luther having again set himself
down to his papers, he opened the door to the man who was in vain
struggling against, on account of the bolt being drawn. “Show a
light,” said Luther to the servant, casting a rapid side-glance at the
stranger, whereupon the man rather astonished at the visit took down
the house key from the wall, and retired to the door, which stood half
open, waiting for Kohlhaas to withdraw. “Then,” said Kohlhaas, deeply
moved, as he took his hat in both hands, “I cannot receive the benefit
of a reconciliation as I entreated.”
“With thy Redeemer, no!” answered Luther shortly, “With thy
sovereign--that, as I told thee, depends upon the success of an
endeavour.” He then motioned the servant to do as he had been ordered,
without further delay. Kohlhaas, with an expression of deep pain, laid
both his hands on his heart, followed the man, who lit him down stairs,
and disappeared.
On the following morning Luther sent a communication to the Elector of
Saxony, in which after giving a severe side-blow to Herrn Henry, and
Conrad von Tronka, the cup-bearer and chamberlain, who had, as was
notorious, suppressed the complaint, he told him, with that freedom
which was peculiar to him, that under such vexatious circumstances
nothing was left but to accept the horse-dealer’s proposal, and to
grant an amnesty on account of the past, that he might renew his suit.
Public opinion, he remarked, was completely on the side of this man,
and that to a dangerous degree; nay, to such an extent, that even the
city of Wittenberg, which he had burned three times, raised a voice in
his favour. If his offer were refused it would unquestionably be
brought, accompanied by very obnoxious remarks, to the notice of the
people, who might easily be so far led away that the state authority
could do nothing whatever with the transgressor. He concluded with the
observation, that in this case the difficulty of treating with a
citizen who had taken up arms must be passed over; that by the conduct
towards him the man had been in a certain manner released from his
obligation to the state; and that in short, to settle the matter, it
would be better to consider him as a foreign person who had invaded the
country--which would be in some measure correct, as he was indeed a
foreigner[5]--than as a rebel who had taken up arms against the throne.
The elector received this letter just when Prince Christian of Misnia,
generalissimo of the empire, and uncle of the Prince Frederic who was
defeated at Mühlberg, and still very ill of his wounds, the high
chancellor of the tribunal, Count Wrede, Count Kallheim, president of
the state-chancery, and the two von Tronkas, the cup-bearer, and the
chamberlain, who had both been friends of the elector from his youth,
were present in the castle. The chamberlain, who, as a privy
counsellor of the elector, conducted private correspondence, with the
privilege of using his name and coat of arms, first opened the subject,
and after explaining at great length, that on his own authority he
would never have set aside the petition which the horse-dealer had
presented to the tribunal against his cousin the squire, if he had not
been induced by false representations to consider it a mere vexatious
and useless affair,--he came to the present state of things. He
observed that neither according to divine nor human laws had the
horse-dealer any right to take such a monstrous revenge, as he had
allowed himself on account of this oversight. He dwelled on the lustre
which would fall on the impious head of Kohlhaas, if he were treated as
a party lawfully at war, and the dishonour which would result to the
sacred person of the elector by such a proceeding appeared to him so
great, that he said, with all the fire of eloquence, that he would
rather see the decree of the round-headed rebel acted on, and the
squire, his cousin, carried off to feed the horses at Kohlhaasenbrück,
than he would see the proposition of Dr. Martin Luther accepted. The
high chancellor of the tribunal, half turning to the chamberlain,
expressed his regret that such a tender anxiety, as he now showed to
clear up this affair to the honour of his sovereign, had not inspired
him in the first instance. He pointed out to the elector his objection
against the employment of force to carry out a measure which was
manifestly unjust; he alluded to the constant increase of the
horse-dealer’s followers as a most important circumstance, observing
that the thread of misdeeds seemed to be spinning itself out to an
infinite length, and declared that only an act of absolute justice,
which should immediately and without reserve make good the false step
that had been taken, could rescue the elector and the government from
this hateful affair.
Prince Christian of Misnia, in answer to the elector’s question, “what
he thought of it,” answered, turning respectfully to the high
chancellor, that the sentiments which he had just heard filled him with
great respect, but that the chancellor did not consider that while he
was for helping Kohlhaas to his rights, he was compromising Wittenberg,
Leipzig, and the whole of the country, which he had laid waste, in
their just claims to restitution or at least to the punishment of the
offender. The order of the state had been so completely distorted in
the case of this man, that a maxim, taken from the science of law,
could scarcely set it right again. Hence he agreed with the opinion of
the chamberlain that the measures appointed for such cases should be
adopted, that an armed force of sufficient magnitude should be raised,
and that the horse-dealer, who had settled himself in the Castle of
Lützen, should be arrested, or, at any rate, that his power should be
crushed.
The chamberlain, politely taking from the wall two chairs for the
elector and the prince, said he rejoiced that a man of such known
integrity and acuteness agreed with him in the means to be employed in
arranging this difficult affair. The prince, holding the chair without
sitting down, and looking hard at him, observed, that he had no reason
to rejoice, since a measure necessarily connected with the one he had
recommended, would be to order his arrest, and proceed against him for
the misuse of the elector’s name. For if necessity required that the
veil should be let down before the throne of justice, over a series of
iniquities, which kept on indefinitely increasing, and therefore could
no more find space to appear at the bar, that was not the case with the
first misdeed that was the origin of all. A capital prosecution of the
chamberlain would alone authorise the state to crush the horse-dealer,
whose cause was notoriously just, and into whose hand had been thrust
the sword which he carried.
The elector, whom von Tronka eyed with some confusion as he heard these
words, turned round deeply colouring, and approached the window. Count
Kallheim, after an awkward pause on all sides, said that in this way
they could not get out of the magic circle which encompassed them.
With equal right might proceedings be commenced against the prince’s
nephew, Prince Frederic, since even he, in the singular expedition
which he undertook against Kohlhaas had, in many instances, exceeded
his instructions; and, therefore, were the inquiry once set on foot
about the numerous persons who had occasioned the present difficulty,
he must be included in the list, and called to account by the elector
for what had taken place at Mühlberg.
The cup-bearer, von Tronka, while the elector with doubtful glances
approached his table, then took up the subject, and said, that he could
not conceive how the right method of proceeding had escaped men of such
wisdom, as those assembled unquestionably were. The horse-dealer, as
far as he understood, had promised to dismiss his force if he obtained
a free conduct to Dresden, and a renewed investigation of his cause.
From this, however, it did not follow, that he was to have an amnesty
for his monstrous acts of vengeance; two distinct points which Dr.
Luther and the council seemed to have confused. “If,” he continued,
laying his finger to the side of his nose, “the judgment on account of
the horses--no matter which way it goes--is pronounced by the Dresden
tribunal, there is nothing to prevent us from arresting Kohlhaas on the
ground of his robberies and incendiarism. This would be a prudent
stroke of policy, which would unite the views of the statesmen on both
sides, and secure the applause of the world and of posterity.”
The elector, when the prince and the high chancellor answered this
discourse of the cup-bearer merely with an angry glance, and the
discussion seemed to be at an end, said that he would by himself
reflect on the different opinions he had heard till the next sitting of
the council. His heart being very susceptible to friendship, the
preliminary measure proposed by the prince had extinguished in him the
desire of commencing the expedition against Kohlhaas, for which every
preparation had been made. At all events he kept with him the high
chancellor, Count Wrede, whose opinion appeared the most feasible; and
when this nobleman showed him letters, from which it appeared that the
horse-dealer had already acquired a force of four hundred men, and was
likely, in a short time, to double and treble it, amid the general
discontent which prevailed in the land on account of the chamberlain’s
irregularities, he resolved without delay to adopt Dr. Luther’s advice;
he, therefore, entrusted to Count Wrede the whole management of the
Kohlhaas affair, and in a few days appeared a placard, the substance of
which was as follows:
“We, &c., &c., Elector of Saxony, having especial regard to the
intercession of Dr. Martin Luther, do give notice to Michael Kohlhaas,
horse-dealer of Brandenburg, that, on condition of his laying down
arms, within three days after sight hereof, he shall have free conduct
to Dresden, to the end that his cause be tried anew. And if, as is not
to be expected, his suit, concerning the horses, shall be rejected by
the tribunal at Dresden, then shall he be prosecuted with all the
severity of the law for attempting to obtain justice by his own might;
but, in the contrary case, mercy instead of justice shall be granted,
and a full amnesty shall be given to Kohlhaas and all his troop.”
No sooner had Kohlhaas received a copy of this notice, which was posted
up all over the country, through the hands of Dr. Luther, than,
notwithstanding the conditional manner in which it was worded, he
dismissed his whole band with gifts, thanks, and suitable advice. All
that he gained by plunder--money, arms, and implements--he gave up to
the courts of Lützen, as the elector’s property, and after he had sent
Waldmann to Kohlhaasenbrück, with letters to the farmer, that he might,
if possible, re-purchase his farm, and Sternbald to Schwerin to fetch
his children, whom he again wished to have with him, he left the Castle
of Lützen, and went to Dresden, unknown, with the rest of his little
property, which he held in paper.
It was daybreak, and the whole city was still sleeping, when he knocked
at the door of his small tenement in the Pirna suburb, which had been
left him through the honesty of the farmer, and told his old servant,
Thomas, who had the care of the property, and who opened the door with
amazement, that he might go and tell the Prince of Misnia, at the seat
of government, that he, Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer, was there. The
Prince of Misnia, who, on hearing this announcement, thought it right
immediately to inform himself of the relation in which this man stood,
found, as he went out with a train of knights and soldiers, that the
streets leading to the residence of Kohlhaas were already thronged with
an innumerable multitude. The intelligence that the destroying angel
was there, who pursued the oppressors of the people with fire and
sword, had set all Dresden, city and suburbs, in motion. It was found
necessary to bolt the door against the pressure of the anxious
multitude, and the youngsters clambered up to the window to see the
incendiary, who was at breakfast. As soon as the prince, with the
assistance of the guard, who forced a passage for him, had pressed
forward into the house, and had entered Kohlhaas’s room, he asked him,
as he stood half-undressed at a table, “Whether he was Kohlhaas, the
horse-dealer?” Whereupon Kohlhaas, taking out of his girdle a
pocket-book, with several papers relating to his position, and handing
them over, respectfully said, “Yes!” adding that, after dismissing his
band, in conformity with the privilege which the elector had granted,
he had come to Dresden to bring his suit against Squire Wenzel von
Tronka, on account of his black horses. The prince, after a hasty
glance, in which he surveyed him from head to foot, and ran over the
papers which he found in the pocket-book, heard his explanation of the
meaning of a document given by the court at Lützen, and relating to the
deposit in favour of the electoral treasury. Then, having examined him
by all sorts of questions about his children, his property, and the
sort of life he intended to lead in future, and having thus ascertained
that there was no occasion to feel uneasiness on his account, he
returned to him his pocket-book and said that there was nothing to
impede his suit, and that he might himself apply to Count Wrede, the
high chancellor of the tribunal, and commence it immediately. The
prince then, after a pause, during which he went to the window and saw,
with wonder, the immense multitude before the house, said: “You will be
obliged to have a guard for the first days to watch over you here and
when you go out!” Kohlhaas cast down his eyes surprised and was
silent. “Well, no matter!” said the prince, leaving the window,
“whatever happens you will only have yourself to blame.” He then moved
towards the door with the design of quitting the house. Kohlhaas, who
had recovered, said, “Do as you please, gracious prince! Only pledge
me your word to remove the guard as soon as I desire it and I have no
objection to make against this measure.” “That is not worth speaking
of,” said the prince, who after telling the three soldiers, who were
appointed as guards, that the man in whose house they were placed was
free, and that when he went out they were merely to follow him for his
protection, took leave of the horse-dealer with a condescending wave of
the hand and departed.
About noon, Kohlhaas, attended by his three guards, and followed by a
countless multitude, who, warned by the police, did him no manner of
injury, proceeded to the chancellor’s. Count Wrede received him, in
his anteroom, with kindness and affability, discoursed with him for two
entire hours, and after he had heard the whole course of events from
the beginning to the end of the affair, he directed him to a celebrated
advocate in the city, who was attached to the court, that he might
favourably draw up his complaint. Kohlhaas without further delay went
to the advocate’s house, and after the complaint was drawn up, which,
like the first rejected one, required the punishment of the squire
according to law, the restoration of the horses to their former
condition, and a compensation both for the damage he had sustained, and
for what his servant, Herse, who had fallen at Mühlberg, had suffered
(for the benefit of his mother), he again returned home, still followed
by the gaping multitude, resolving not to go out of doors any more
unless urgent necessity demanded it.
In the meanwhile Squire Wenzel von Tronka was released from his
confinement in Wittenberg, and after he had recovered from a dangerous
erysipelas in the foot, was peremptorily summoned by the tribunal to
appear at Dresden, and answer the complaint of the horse-dealer,
Kohlhaas, respecting certain horses, which had been unlawfully detained
and spoiled. His relations, the brothers von Tronka, (the chamberlain
and the cupbearer,) at whose house he put up, received him with the
greatest indignation and contempt; they called him a wretched and
worthless person, who brought disgrace on all his family, told him that
he would infallibly lose the cause, and bade him prepare to bring the
horses, which he would be condemned to feed, amid the general derision
of the world. The squire, with a weak trembling voice, said that he
was more to be pitied than any one in the world. He swore that he knew
but little of the whole cursed business, which had plunged him into
calamity, and that the castellan and the bailiff were alone to blame,
inasmuch as they had employed the horses in the harvest without the
remotest knowledge and wish on his part, and had ruined them by
immoderate work in their corn fields. He sat down as he uttered these
words, and entreated his relations not to plunge him back again into
the illness from which he had recovered, by their reproaches. On the
following day, the brothers von Tronka, who possessed property in the
neighbourhood of the destroyed Tronkenburg, finding there was nothing
else to be done, wrote to their farmers and bailiffs, at their
kinsman’s request, to obtain information respecting the horses, which
had disappeared on the day of the calamity and had not been heard of
since. But the whole place having been laid waste, and nearly all the
inhabitants having been slaughtered, they could learn no more than that
a servant, driven by blows with the flat of the incendiary’s sabre, had
saved the horses from the burning shed, in which they stood, and that
on asking where he was to take them, and what he was to do, he only
received from the ruffian a kick for an answer. The gouty old
housekeeper, who had fled to Misnia, stated, in writing, that the
servant on the morning that followed that dreadful night had gone with
the horses to the Brandenburg border.