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PICTURES
OF
GERMAN LIFE
In the XVth XVIth and XVIIth Centuries.

BY
GUSTAV FREYTAG.
Translated from the Original by
MRS. MALCOLM.
COPYRIGHT EDITION.—IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193 PICCADILLY.
1862.

LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET.

CONTENTS.

SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES.

Introduction--Retrospect of the results of the sixteenth century--Greater development of individuality--Defects of Protestantism--A more elevated tone in Catholicism--Contrast of the Roman and German systems--Political weakness of Protestantism--The Hapsburgers--Discontent in the people

CHAPTER I.

The Thirty Years' War (1618 to 1638). The Army--Strength of the Army--Cost--Method of conducting the war--Political events of it--Organization of the army--The officers and the banners--Pay--Discipline--Punishments--Camp followers and their discipline--Description of a Soldier's Life before the War, by Adam Junghans

CHAPTER II.

The Thirty Years' War. Life and Manners of the Soldiers (1618 to 1648)--Intermixture of nations--The camp; gambling; luxury; scarcity--Superstition--Vices--Camp language--The cartel--Booty--Partisan service and spies--Marauders--Oppression

CHAPTER III.

The Thirty Years' War. The Villagers and their Pastors (1618 to 1648)--State of the villages--Position and manners of the peasantry--Effects of the war; money perplexities; quartering of troops; tortures--Fear; insolence; lawlessness--Love of home--The pastors and their endurance--Fate of the Pastor Bötzinger

CHAPTER IV.

The Thirty Years' War. Clippers of Money and Public Opinion (1618 to 1648)--The commencement of newspapers--Struggle of the press at the beginning of the war--The kipper time--Money coining--Depreciation of the coinage in 1621, and its effect upon the people--Discovery of the danger; excitement; storm in the press--Specimen from the flying-sheet expurgatio der kipper--Theological controversial writings--Enthusiasm for Gustavus Adolphus--Character of that king--Dialogue between the king and the envoy of Brandenburg--The fate of Gustavus Adolphus--Opposition of the press to Sweden--Patriotism of the German press--The Flying-Sheet, the German Brutus--The benefit of Sweden to Germany

CHAPTER V.

The Thirty Years' War. The Cities (1618 to 1648)--Aspect of the cities in 1618--Effects of the war; luxury; contributions; sieges--Religious persecution--The Ladies of Löwenberg

CHAPTER VI.

The Thirty Years' War. The Peace (1650)--Festivities of the Ambassadors at Nuremberg--Festive Fair in a Thuringian Village--Condition of the country after the war--Its devastation--Attempted estimation of it--The consequences to the Austrian provinces

CHAPTER VII.

Rogues and Adventurers--Their increase during the war--Their history--The strollers of the middle ages--Gipsies and their language--Gibberish and beggars--Travelling scholars--Robbers and incendiaries--Foreign jugglers--Description of Strolling Players, by Garzoni--Comedians, and influence of adventurers on literature--Swindlers of distinction--Alchemists

CHAPTER VIII.

Engagement and Marriage at Court (1661)--Fashion and gallantry, a foreign means of preserving decorum--Courtly Wooing and Marriage at Vienna--The Royal families--The Elector Palatine Carl Ludwig--Letter of the Electress Palatine Charlotte to the Emperor--Judgment upon her and her husband

CHAPTER IX.

Of the Homes of German Citizens (1675)--Order and decorum in wooing--Narrative of Friedrich Lucä--Change in expression of feelings of the heart--Life at home--Prosperity of Hamburg--Letter of Burgomaster Schulte to his Son in Lisbon--Strong sense of duty in men--Berend Jacob Carpfanger--Sorrowful tidings from Cadiz

CHAPTER X.

German Life at the Baths (1690)--Distinction of ranks--Forms of society--Bath life--Poggio--Baths in the Fifteenth Century, by Poggio--In the Sixteenth, by Pantaleon--In the Seventeenth, by de Merveilleux--In the Eighteenth, by Hess

CHAPTER XI.

Jesuits and Jews--Decay of the Church--Protestants and Catholics--The Jesuits also weaker--Position of the Jews since the middle ages--Their lucrative business--The Jews at Prague Story of Simon Abeles--Victory of humanity over religious intolerance

CHAPTER XII.

The Wasunger War (1747)--Weakness of the German Empire--Division of classes wider--Anthony Ulrich von Meiningen and Philippine Cesar--Quarrels at the Court of Meiningen--Cause of the war--Diary of the Gotha Lieutenant Rauch

Conclusion. From Frederick the Great up to the present time--Object of these pictures--The mind of the people

PICTURES OF GERMAN LIFE.

INTRODUCTION TO THE SECOND VOLUME.

The year 1600 dawned upon a people who had gone through a vast change in the last century. Everywhere we perceive marks of progress. Let us compare any learned book of the year 1499 with one of 1599. The former is written in bad Latin, poor in diction, ponderous in composition, and not easy of comprehension. Of independent spirit and individual conviction we find little trace. There are undoubtedly exceptions, but they are very rare. Even the Latin of the earlier Humanitarians reminds us of the subtle vapidness of monkish language, almost as much as of the artistic phrases of ancient rhetoricians. We are sometimes surprised to find in the theology, an undercurrent of deep-thinking speculations of elevated grandeur; but it is a kind of secret doctrine of souls depressed under the constraint of the cloister. It is certainly philosophy, but deprived of vitality.

A century later we discover, even in mediocre authors, a certain independent individuality. The writers begin to reflect on human life and faith; they understand how to represent their own feelings and the emotions of the soul, and struggles for their own convictions. Yet still they remain too much bound by general prescription, and there is still much that is monotonous, according to our views, in their judgment and learning, and the cultivation of their minds. But in their prose we find a peculiar and often original style, and almost always a stronger and more active common sense. Three generations struggled for their faith, many individuals perished for their convictions, and thousands were plunged in misery. Martyrdom was no longer a monstrous and unheard-of thing, and men maintained their own judgment on the highest questions. There were few souls strong enough to do this a century earlier; then, among the people, individuals passed their lives without any community of ideas or activity of mind, seeking in the narrow circle of their associates no advantage save that of support against insufferable oppression; that alone was the purport of their struggles. But now enthusiasm had been called forth in the nation, the individual felt himself in close connection with millions, he was carried along the stream by the unanimous impulse of all who were like-minded; he acted and suffered for an idea; this was especially the case with the Protestants; and even Roman Catholics partook of this blessing: so much nobler had men become.

But every higher development produces new defects; the child is free from many complaints which attack the youth. Protestantism, which had done so much for the people, did not for a long time achieve its greatest results. It required the unceasing inward workings of the minds of individuals; it gave an impulse everywhere to self-decision, and yet it could not raise itself above the worst principles of the old Church. It wished still to dominate over the faith of its disciples and to persecute as heresy every deviation from its convictions. Luther's giant nature had been able to keep zealous spirits united, but he himself had predicted that after his death they would not remain so. He knew his faithful adherents accurately; their weaknesses, and their eagerness to carry out their own views. Melancthon, who though firm in his theology and in the every-day troubles of life, was embarrassed and uncertain in matters of great import, could not command the fiery spirits of more determined characters. At that Imperial Diet which was held at Augsburg in 1547, the victorious Emperor had endeavoured, in his way, to compose the disputes of the Churches, and had pressed upon the vanquished Protestants a preliminary formula of faith, called the Interim. From the point of view of the Roman Catholics, it was considered as extreme toleration, which was only bearable because it gradually led back to the Old Church; from the point of view of zealous Protestants, it was held to be insupportable tyranny, which ought to be withstood. The ecclesiastical leaders of the opposition rose everywhere against this tyranny; hundreds of preachers were driven from their benefices and went about with their staffs as miserable pilgrims, and many fell victims to the furious reaction. It was the heroic time of the Protestant faith; simple preachers, fathers with wives and children, manfully suffered for their convictions, and were soon followed by thousands of laity.

But this enthusiasm was fraught with danger. The Interim was the beginning of vehement theological disputes, even among Luther's followers. The struggle of individuals became also the struggle of the Universities. The successors of Frederick the Wise lost the University of Wittenberg as well as the Electoral dignity; Melancthon and the Wittenbergers were under the influence of Maurice and his brothers; while the most zealous Lutherans were assembled at the new University of Jena.

This race of vehement men was followed by another generation of Epigonen. At the end of the century German Protestantism appeared in most of the provinces to be secure from outward dangers. Then the ecclesiastics became too self-sufficient and fond of power--the failings of a privileged order. Influential counsellors of weak princes, and rulers of public opinion, they themselves persecuted other believers with the weapons of the old Church. They sometimes called down the civil power upon heretics; and the populace stormed the houses of the Reformers in Leipzig; at Dresden a courtly ecclesiastic was executed on account of heresy, though perhaps there may also have been political reasons. Thus this new life threw deep shadows over the souls of the people.

In Roman Catholic territories also, a vigorous and extraordinary life was roused. The Roman Catholic Church gave birth to a new discipline of the mind, a mode of human culture distinctly opposed to Protestantism. Even in the old Church a greater depth of inward life was attained. A new system of rapturous excitement and self-denial, with high duties and an exalted ideal, was offered to satisfy the needs of the souls of the faithful. In Spain and Italy this new religious zeal was aroused, full of resignation and self-sacrifice, full of great talent, eagerness for combat, and glowing enthusiasm, and rich in manly vigour. But it was not a faith for Germans. It demanded the annihilation of free individuality, a rending from all the ties of the world, fanatical devotion, and an unconditional subjection of the individual to a great community. Each one had to make an offering of his life for a great aim, without criticism or scruple. Whilst Protestantism formed a higher standard, and imposed on each individual, the duty of seeking independently by an effort of his own mind, the key to divine and human knowledge, the new Catholicism grasped his whole being with an iron hand. Protestantism was, notwithstanding all the loyalty of the Reformers, essentially democratic; the new Catholicism concentrated all the powers of men, of which it demanded the most unhesitating submission, in a spiritual tyranny, under the dominion of the head of the Church, and afterwards under that of the State.

The great representatives of this new tendency in Church and State were the Jesuits. In the impassioned soul of a Spanish nobleman smouldered the gloomy fire of the new Catholic teaching; amidst ascetic penances, in the restricted intercourse of a small brotherhood, the system was formed. In the year 1540 the Pope confirmed the brotherhood, and shortly after, the first members of the order hastened across the Alps and the Rhine into Germany, and began already to rule in the council of Trent. Their unhesitating determination strengthened the weak, and frightened the wavering. With wonderful rapidity the order established itself in Germany, where the old faith still subsisted along with the new; it acquired favour with the higher classes, and a crowd of adherents amongst the people. Some princes gave up to it the spiritual dominion of their countries, above all the Hapsburgers; and besides them, the German princes of the Church, who could not uphold by their own intrinsic strength, the wavering faith of their subjects: and lastly the Dukes of Bavaria, who for more than a century had been in the habit of seeking advantage for their house in a close union with Rome. When the brotherhood first entered Germany the whole nation was on the point of becoming Protestant; even at the beginning of the Thirty years' war, after losses and successes on both sides, three fourths of Germany were Protestant; but in the year 1650, the whole of the new Imperial state, and the largest third of the rest of Germany, had again become Roman Catholic. So well did these foreign priests serve their Church.

The way in which they worked was marvellous; cautiously, step by step, with endless schemes, and firm determination, never wavering, bending to the storm, and indefatigably returning again, never giving up what they had once begun, pursuing the smallest, as well as the greatest plans at any sacrifice, this society presented the only specimen of an unconditional submission of the will, and surrender of everything to one idea, which did not find expression in individuals, but only in the society. The order governed, but no single member of it was free, not even the General of the order.

The society gained honour and favour; it understood well how to make itself beloved, or indispensable wherever it came; but it never found a home in Germany. Its fearful principle of mystery and secrecy was felt, not only by the Protestants, who endeavoured to break its power by their paper weapons, the flying-sheets, and made it answerable for every political misdeed, whether far or near, but also in the Roman Catholic countries. Even there it was only a guest, influential certainly, and much prized, but from time to time ecclesiastics and laity felt that it was a thing apart from them. All the other spiritual societies had become national,--the Jesuits never. It is not unnatural that this feeling was strongest among the Roman Catholic ecclesiastics, for their worldly prospects were often injured by the Jesuits.

Thus from the middle of the sixteenth century two opposite methods of mental cultivation, two different sources of morals and working power have struggled against one another. Devotion and unconditional subjection, against feelings of duty and thoughtful self-assertion; rapid and unhesitating decision, against conscientious doubts; a spirit of energy, working laboriously with much deliberation and scheming after distant aims, against defective discipline; and an urging to unity, against a striving for separation.

These opposing powers appeared everywhere, especially in politics and at the courts of princes. Protestantism in its unfinished shape, though it had elevated the people, was no help to the formation of the character of the German princes; it had raised higher their external power, but it had lessened their inward stability; their youthful training became in general too theological to be practical. However immoral many of them were, they all suffered from conscientious doubts; and there was no ready answer for these doubts, such as the Roman Catholic confessor had always in store for them. The Protestant princes stood isolated; there was no firm bond of union between the Churches of the different states, but much trivial quarrelling and bitter hatred, not only between Lutherans and Reformers, but even amongst the followers of the Augsburg confession; and this diminished the strength of the princes. Whilst the priests of the Roman Catholic Church did their best to unite their rulers, the Protestant ecclesiastics helped to increase the disunion of theirs. So it is not surprising, that the Protestants for a long time stood at a disadvantage in their political struggle with the old faith. The Germans had not yet found, and did not for centuries attain to, the new constitution of State, which transfers the mainspring of government from the accidental will of the ruler, to the conscience of the nation, and which places in a regulated path, citizens of talent and integrity as advisers to the crown; public opinion was still weak, the daily press not yet in existence, and the relation between the political rights of the princes and the people very undefined.

Protestantism had everywhere produced political convulsions, from the peasant war even into the following century. The Reformation had unloosed all tongues, it had given the Germans a freer judgment upon their position as citizens, and had inspired individuals with the courage to fight for their own convictions. The peasant now loudly murmured against exorbitant burdens, the members of guilds against the selfish dominion of the corporations, and the noble members of the provincial estates against the extravagant demands of the sovereign for war expenses. The wild democratic disturbances of 1525 were with Luther's entire approbation easily put down, but democratic tendencies did not therefore cease, and together with them, anabaptist and socialist views spread from city to city. Their teaching, which scarcely forms a system, took a different colouring in different individuals, from the harmless theorist who imagined a community of good citizens without egotism, full of self-abnegation, as did the talented Eberlin, to the reckless fanatic who tried to establish a new Zion at Münster, with an illusive community of goods and wives. These excitements lost their power towards the end of the century, but still continued to ferment among the people, especially in those provinces, where the Protestant opposition of the estates excited the people against the old faith of the rulers of the country. Thus it was in Bohemia, Moravia, and Upper Austria. The more zealously the Hapsburgers endeavoured, by means of the Jesuits, to restore the old faith, the more it was kept in check, even in their own country, by the demands of the opposition in the estates, and the commotions among the people. And well did they perceive the threatening connection of this opposition to their house. Two ways only were therefore open to them, either they must themselves have become Protestants, which they found impossible, or they must have resolutely destroyed the dangerous teaching and pretensions which upset the souls of men everywhere, especially in their own country. The Hapsburger appeared who attempted this.

Meanwhile the spirit of the old Church had been raised, by the great victories which it had gained in other countries. The Protestant princes combined against the threatened offensive movement of the Roman Catholic party, as before at Smalkald, and the Roman Catholic party answered by the formation of the League; but the object at heart, of the League was attack, while that of the Protestants was only defence.

This was the political state of Germany before the Thirty years' war; a most unsatisfactory state. Discontent was general, a mournful tendency, a disposition to prophecy evil, were the significant signs of the times. Every deed of violence which was announced to the people in the flying-sheets, was accompanied by remarks on the bad times. And yet we know for certain that immorality had not become strikingly greater in the country. There was wealth in the cities, and even in the country increase of prosperity; there was regular government everywhere, better order and greater security of existence, luxury and an inordinate love of enjoyment had undoubtedly increased, together with riches; even among the lower strata of the people greed was awakened, life became more varied and dearer, and much indifference began to be shown concerning the quarrels of ecclesiastics. The best began to be gloomy, and even cheerful natures, like the honest Bartholomäus Ringwald, became prophets of misfortune, and wished for death.

And there was good reason for this gloom. There was something diseased in the life of Germany, an incomprehensible burden weighed it down, which marred its development. Luther's teaching, it is true, produced the greatest spiritual and intellectual progress which Germany had ever made through one man, but the demands of life increased with every expansion of the soul. The new mental culture must be followed by a corresponding advance in earthly condition, a greater independence in faith, demanded imperiously a stronger power of political development But it was precisely this teaching, which appeared like the early dawn of a better life, that conveyed to the people the consciousness of their own political weakness, and by this weakness they became one-sided and narrow minded. Germany being divided into countless territories under weak princes, its people everywhere involved in and occupied with trifling disputes, were deficient in that which is indispensable to a genial growth; they needed a general elevation, a great united will, and a sphere of moral duties, which alone makes men pre-eminently cheerful and manly. The fatherland of the Germans extended probably from Lorraine to the Oder, but in no single portion of it did they live like the citizens of Elizabeth or Henry IV.

Thus already inwardly diseased, Germany entered upon a war of thirty years. When the war ended, there was little remaining of the great nation. For yet a century to come, the successors of the survivors were deficient in that most manly of all feelings,--political enthusiasm.

Luther had raised his people out of the epic life of the middle ages. The Thirty years' war had destroyed the popular strength, and forced the Germans into individual life, the mental constitution of which one may truly call lyrical. That which will here be depicted from the accounts of cotemporaries, is a sad joyless time.

CHAPTER I.

THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.--THE ARMY.

The opposition between the interests of the house of Hapsburg and of the German nation, and between the old and new faith, led to a bloody catastrophe. If any one should inquire how such a war could rage through a whole generation, and so fearfully exhaust a powerful people, he will receive this striking answer, that the war was so long and terrible, because none of the contending parties were able to carry it out on a great and decisive scale.

The largest armies in the Thirty years' war did not exceed in strength one corps of a modern army. Tilly considered forty thousand men the greatest number of troops that a general could wish to have. It was only occasionally that an army reached that strength; almost all the great battles were fought by smaller bodies of men. Numerous were the detachments, and very great were the losses by skirmishes, illnesses, and desertion. As there was no regular system for maintaining the strength of the army, its effective amount fluctuated in a remarkable way. Once, indeed, Wallenstein united a larger force under his command--according to some accounts a hundred thousand men--but they did not form one army, nay, they were hardly in any military connection, for the undisciplined bands with which, in 1629, he subdued the German territories of the Emperor, were dispersed over half Germany. Such large masses of soldiers appeared to all parties as a terrible venture; they could not, in fact, be kept under control, and after that, no general commanded more than half that number.[^[1]]

An army in order of battle was considered as a movable fortress, the central point of which was the General himself, who ruled all the details; he had to survey the ground and every position, and every attack was directed by him. Adjutantcies and staff service were hardly established. It was part of the strategy to keep the army together in masses, to defend the ranks by earth works, and not to allow horse or man to be out of observation and control. In marching also, the army was kept close together in narrow quarters, generally within the space of a camp; from this arose commissariat difficulties, the high-roads were bad, often almost impassable, the conveyance of provisions compulsory, and always ill-regulated: and worst of all, the army was attended by an intense baggage-train, which, with the wild-robber system, quickly wasted the most fertile countries.

Great care was therefore taken that no such embarrassment should arise. Neither the Emperor nor the Princes of the Empire were in a condition to maintain forty thousand men out of their income even for three months. The regular revenue of the sovereign was much less than now, and the maintenance of an army far more costly. The greater part of the revenue was derived from tithes in kind, which in time of war was insecure and difficult to realize. The finances of the parties engaged in this war were even at the commencement of it in a most lamentable state.

In the winter of 1619 and 1620, half the Bohemian army died of hunger and cold, from the want of pay and a commissariat; in September 1620, more than four and a half million of gulden of pay was owing to the troops, and there were endless mutinies, and the King Palatine Frederick could not aid his Protestant allies with subsidies. The Emperor was then not in much better condition, but he soon afterwards obtained Spanish subsidies. When the Elector of Saxony, whose finances were better regulated, first hired fifteen hundred men in December, 1619, he could not pay them regularly. What was granted by the estates in war taxes, and the so-called voluntary contributions of the opulent, did not go far; loans even in the first year of the war were very difficult to realize; they were attempted with the banking-houses of southern Germany, and also in Hamburg, but seldom with success. City communities were considered safer debtors than the great princes. There were dealings about the smallest sums even with private individuals. Saxony in 1621, hoped to get from fifty to sixty thousand guldens from the Fuggers, and endeavoured in vain to borrow thirty and seventy thousand gulden from capitalists. Maximilian of Bavaria, and the League, made a great loan for the war of one million two hundred thousand gulden at twelve per cent, from the merchants in Genoa, for this the Fuggers became responsible, and the salt trade of Augsburg was given to them for their security. Just one hundred years before, this said banking-house had taken an important share in the election of the Emperor Charles V., and now it helped to secure the victory of the Roman Catholic party; for the Bohemian war was decided even more by the want of money than by the battle of the Weissen-Berge. Thus the war began with the governments being in a general state of insolvency; and therefore the maintenance of great armies became impossible.

It is evident that there was a fatal disproportion between the military strength of the parties and the ultimate object of every war. None of them could entirely subdue their opponents. The armies were too small, and had too little durability, to be able to control by regular strategic operations, the numerous and warlike people of wide-spread districts. Whilst a victorious army was ruling near the Rhine or the Oder, a new enemy was collecting in the north on the shores of the Baltic. The German theatre of war, also, was not so constituted as to be easily productive of lasting results. Almost every city, and many country seats were fortified. The siege guns were still unwieldy and uncertain in their aim, and the defence of fortified places was proportionably stronger than the attack. Thus war became principally a combat of sieges; every captured town weakened the victorious army, from the necessity of leaving garrisons. When a province had been conquered, the conqueror was often not in a position to withstand the conquered in open battle. By new exertion the conqueror was driven from the field; then followed fresh sieges and captures, and again fatal disruption of strength.

It was a war full of bloody battles and glorious victories, and also of excessive alternations of fortune. Numerous were the dark hero forms that loomed out of the chaos of blood and fire; the iron Ernst von Mansfeld, the fantastic Brunswicker, Bernhard of Weimar; and on the other side, Maximilian of Bavaria, and the generals of the League, Tilly, Pappenheim, and the able Mercy; the leaders of the Imperial army, the daring Wallenstein and Altringer; the great French heroes, Condé and Turenne, and amongst the Swedes, Horn, Bauer, Torstenson, Wrangel, and above all the mighty prince of war, Gustavus Adolphus. How much manly energy excited to the highest pitch, and yet how slow and poor were the political results obtained! how quickly was again lost, what appeared to have been obtained by the greatest amount of power! How often did the parties themselves change the objects after which they were striving, nay even the banner for which they desired victory!

The political events of the war can only be briefly mentioned here; they may be divided into three periods. The first, from 1618 to 1630, is the time of the Imperial triumphs. The Protestant estates of Bohemia, contrary to law and their own word, refused the Bohemian crown to the Archduke Ferdinand, and chose for their ruler the Elector Palatine, a reformer. But by means of the League and the Lutheran Electors of Saxony, Ferdinand became Emperor. His opponent was beaten in the battle of the Weissen-Berge, and left the country as a fugitive. Here and there, the Protestant opposition continued to blaze up, but divided, without plan, and with weak resources. Baden-Durlach, the Mansfelder, the Brunswicker, and lastly the circle of lower Saxony with the Danish King, succumbed to the troops of the League and the Emperor. Ferdinand II., who though Emperor, was still a fugitive in the states belonging to his house, obtained through the assistance of an experienced mercenary commander, Wallenstein, a large body of troops, whom he maintained in the territory of the principality by contribution and pillage. Ever greater did the Emperor's army continue to swell; ever higher rose his claims in Germany and Italy: the old idea of Charles V. after the Smalkaldic war became a living principle in the nephew; he would subdue Germany, as his predecessor had done the peasants and the estates in the Austrian provinces; he would crush all independence, the privileges of cities, the rights of the estates, the pride and family power of princes--he hoped to subjugate all Germany to his faith and his house. But throughout the whole of Germany sounded a cry of grief and indignation, at the horrible marauding war which was conducted by the merciless general of the Hapsburger. All the allies of the Imperial house rose threateningly against him. The Princes of the League, and above all Maximilian of Bavaria, looked abroad for help; they subdued the high spirit of the Emperor, and he was obliged to dismiss his faithful General and to control the barbarous army. Nay, more, even the Holy Father began to fear the Emperor. The Pope himself united with France in order to bring Swedish help to the Protestants. The lion of the north disembarked on the German coast.

Now began the second period of the war. The swelling billows of the Roman Catholic power had overflowed Germany even up to the Northern Sea. From 1630 to 1634 came the Protestant counter-current, which flowed in a resistless course from north to south over the third part of Germany. Even after the death of their king, the Swedish Generals kept their ascendency in the field; Wallenstein himself abandoned the Emperor, and was secretly murdered. The Roman Catholic party had begun to lose courage, when, by a last effort of collected strength, it won the bloody battle of Nördlingen.

Then followed the third period of fourteen years, from 1634 to 1648, in which victory and reverses were nearly equal on both sides. The Swedes, driven back to the Northern Sea, girding up their whole strength, again burst forth into the middle of Germany. Again the tide of fortune ebbed to and fro, becoming gradually less powerful. The French, greedy of booty, spread themselves as far as the Rhine; the land was devastated, and famine and pestilence raged. The Swedes, though losing one General after another, kept the field and maintained their claims with unceasing pertinacity. In opposition to them stood the equally inflexible Maximilian, Prince of the League. Even in the last decade of the war, the Bavarians fought for three years the most renowned campaigns which this dynasty has to boast of. The fanatical Ferdinand was dead, his successor, able, moderate, and an experienced soldier, persevered from necessity; he also was firm and tenacious. No party could bring about a decisive result. For years negotiations for peace were carried on; whilst the generals fought, the cities and villages were depopulated and the fields were overgrown with rank weeds. Peace came at last; it was not brought about by great battles, nor by irresistible political combinations, but chiefly by the weariness of the combatants, and Germany celebrated it with festivities though she had lost three fourths of her population.

All this gives to the Thirty years' war the appearance of foredoomed annihilation, ushered in as it was by the most fearful visitations of nature. Above the strife of parties a terrible fate spread its wings; it carried off the leaders and prostrated them in the dust, the greatest human strength became powerless under its hand; at last, satiated with devastation and death, it turned its face slowly from the country which had become a great charnel house.

It is not the intention of this work to characterize the Generals and battles belonging to this period of struggle, but to speak of the condition and circumstances of the German people, both of the destructive and suffering portions of the population, of the army, alike with the citizen and peasant. Since the Burgundian war and the Italian battles of Maximilian and Charles V., the burgher infantry had thrown into the background the knightly cavalry of the middle ages.

The strength of the German army consisted of Landsknechte, freemen, either citizens or peasants, and among them occasionally a few nobles. They were for the most part mercenaries, who bound themselves voluntarily by contract to some banner for a time. They carried on war like a trade, sternly, actively, and enduringly. But the full vigour of their power was of short duration: their decadence may be dated from their revolt against the old Fronsperg; from that hour when they broke the heart of their father, the gray-headed Landsknecht hero. Many things combined to corrupt this new infantry: they were mercenaries, serving only for a time, accustomed to change their banner, and not to fight for an idea, but only for booty or their own advantage. They were not called into existence in consequence of the application of gunpowder to the art of war; but they more especially appropriated this new invention to themselves. The introduction of fire-arms into the army, certainly first showed the weakness of their opponents, the old cavalry of knighthood, but at the same time soon caused the diminution of their own efficiency, for these weapons were too clumsy and slow to insure victory on the battle-field. The final result still depended on the rushing charge of the pikemen and the onslaught of their great masses on the enemy.

To this was added other detrimental circumstances; there were as yet no standing armies: when there was threatening of a feud, troops were assembled by the territorial lords great and small, and by the cities, and at the conclusion of the war they were dismissed. These wars were generally short and local; even the Hungarian wars were only summer campaigns of a few months. The German rulers, always in want of money, endeavoured to help themselves by the depreciation of the coinage, striking a lighter coin expressly for the payment of the soldiers, and also by faithlessly paying them less than had been agreed upon. This unworthy treatment demoralized the men, no less than the shortness of the service. Thus the Landsknechte became deceived deceivers, adventurers, plunderers and robbers.

The infantry at the beginning of the war used either firearms or pikes, the former to open the enemy's ranks, the latter to decide the battle by hand-to-hand fighting. At this period we find that the pikemen were the heavy infantry; they wore breastplates, brassarts, swords, and a pike eighteen feet long with an iron point, the handles of the best were of ash; the lance-corporals and subaltern officers had halberds and partisans. The two species of fire-arms which prevailed in the army were the musketoon (which with the Imperialists was a heavy weapon six feet long, with matchlocks and balls, of which there were ten in the pound) and the short handgun, a weapon of lighter and smaller calibre, which in the beginning of the war bore amongst the infantry the old name of arquebuss. The musketeer wore also at his side a hanger, a weapon with a small curved point, and over his shoulder a bandolier with eleven cylindrical cases in which the charges were placed, a match holder, and a musket rest, a staff with a metal point and two metal prongs, on the top of which the musketeer laid his weapon: his head was covered with a helmet or morion; this last piece of armour was soon discarded. The foot arquebussier did not carry a rest or a shoulder-belt; he loaded from his shot-pouch and powder-horn. There were pikemen and musketeers in the same company, and long even before the great war there were companies in which fire-arms alone were borne. Out of the light infantry were formed, in the middle of the war, what were called rifle companies, but among whom only a few had rifles. The grenadiers, who threw hand-grenades, were then formed in small numbers; for instance, in 1634, by the Swedes at the siege of Ratisbon.

At the beginning of the war the pikemen, as heavy infantry, were considered of importance, and they were put down in the muster-rolls as receiving double pay; but in the course of it they were found to be too unwieldy for long marches, helpless in attack, in short, almost useless, since the last decision of the battle now devolved upon the cavalry; thus they gradually sank into contempt, and the clever judgment pronounced by the jovial Springinsfeld, accurately expresses the view that was taken of their utility. "A musketeer is indeed a poor, much harassed creature; but he lives in splendid happiness compared to a miserable pikeman: it is vexatious to think what hardships the poor simpletons endure; no one who had not experienced it themselves could believe it, and I think whoever kills a pikeman whom he could save, murders an innocent man, and can never be excused such a barbarous deed: for although these poor draught oxen--they were so called in derision--are formed to defend their brigades in the open field from the onslaught of the cavalry, yet they themselves do no one any injury, and he who throws himself upon their long spears deserves what he gets. In short, I have during my life seen many sharp encounters, but seldom found that a pikeman ever caused the death of any one." Nevertheless the pikemen kept their ground till towards the end of the seventeenth century. The musketeers who were, however, the great mass of the infantry, were rendered more agile by Gustavus Adolphus; he discarded from the Swedish army the musket rests, lightened their weapons and the calibre of the balls, of which there were thirteen to the pound, and introduced instead of the rattling bandoliers, paper cartridges and pockets; but the musketeers, without bayonets, slow in firing, unaccustomed to fight in close ranks, were little fitted to decide an engagement.

The influence of the cavalry on the other hand increased. At the beginning of the war there were two contending principles concerning them, the method and arming of old knightly traditions were mixed up with the Landsknechte characteristics, many of whom were also horsemen. The heavy cavalry were still considered an aristocratic corps, the nobleman still placed himself with his charger, his knightly armour, his old knightly lance, and his troop of vassals, for whom he drew pay, under the standard of the cavalry regiments. But the war made an end gradually of this remnant of old customs. It was still, however, an object of ambition to join the army as a soldier of fortune, either with an esquire or alone, and whoever estimated himself highly or had made much booty, thronged to the cavalry standard. In the German army there were four kinds of regular cavalry, the Lancers, in full armour even to the knightly spurs, without shield, with the knightly lance or the spear of the Landsknechte, a sword, and two holster pistols; the Cuirassiers, with similar armour, pistols and sword; the Arquebussiers, called later Carbineers, half armed, with morion, and pistol proof back and breast pieces, with two pistols and an arquebuss on a small bandolier; finally the Dragoons, mounted pikemen, or musketeers, who fought either on foot or on horseback. Besides these there were irregular cavalry Croats, Stradiots, and Hussars, who almost a century before, in 1546, had made a great sensation in Germany when Duke Maurice of Saxony borrowed them from King Ferdinand of Bohemia. Their appearance was not displeasing; they wore Turkish armour, a sabre, and a targe, but they were wild robbers, and in the worst repute. Gustavus Adolphus brought to Germany only Cuirassiers and Dragoons. His Cuirassiers were more lightly armed than the Imperial, but far superior to them in energy of attack. During the whole war the endeavour of the cavalry was to lighten their heavy armour; the more the army separated into military companies the more pressing was the necessity for greater activity.

In the sixteenth century the heavy guns were very varied in calibre and length of barrel, and had divers curious names. The sharp metz, the carronade, culverin and nightingale, the singer, the falcon and the falconet, the field serpent and serpentine, with balls from one hundred pounds down to one pound, besides the organ,[^[2]] mortars large and small, rifle-barrelled guns and rifles. But in the beginning of the Thirty years' war the forms were already simplified; they cast forty-eight, and twenty-four pounders, twelve and six pounders, with forty-two, twenty-four, twelve and six pound balls;[^[3]] the first were fortress and siege guns, the last were field guns; besides these, disproportionately long culverins and falconets, also chamber pieces for throwing shells, or bomb mortars which were soon called howitzers, smaller mortars for throwing fire-balls, stinkpots, &c.; and in the beginning of the war bombarders, which fired pieces of iron, lead, small shot, and stones. Lastly from forged pieces they fired half-ounce bullets, double, single, and half-hooks, or grappling irons. But the length of the barrels of the guns was too long for balls; the powder was bad, and the aim consequently uncertain. Gustavus Adolphus introduced shorter and lighter guns; his leather cannon, made of copper cylinders with thick hemp and leather coverings[^[4]] held together by iron hoops, soon ceased to be used, probably because they were not sufficiently durable, but his short four-pounders, two of which were given to every regiment, and which worked best with grape shot, lasted over the war. These field pieces fired not only from position but were moved with tolerable rapidity during action, but the bombardes and petards were unwieldy; the last were twisted round with ropes more like a sort of cannon than our bombs and grenades, but were of uncertain effect because the locks were badly prepared and they did not measure the time for the explosion. The old disposition of the Germans to give life to the inanimate had already in earlier times bestowed especial names on favourite guns, and the custom remained, even after pieces of the same calibre were cast in greater numbers; then particular guns, for example, were called after the planets, months, and signs of the zodiac, like a high sounding alphabet,[^[5]] and in this case indicated by single letters. There was always a new name given according to the calibre, which in spite of all the simplification was still very varied. The progress of artillery and its influence on the conduct of war was impeded in the last half of the war by the want of experienced master gunners, the greater portion of them were infantry commanders; the loss of an artillery officer of capacity was difficult to replace.

The relative numbers of particular branches of the service were changed during the war. In the beginning the proportion of the cavalry to the infantry was as one to five, but soon they became one to three, and in the latter period they were sometimes the strongest. This striking fact is a proof both of the deterioration of the troops and of the art of war. In the exhausted country, the army could only be maintained by a strong force of cavalry, who could forage further and change their ground with more rapidity. As all who hoped for independence or booty pressed into the cavalry it was in better condition proportionately than the infantry, who at last were reduced to support themselves by reaping the scanty remains left by the horsemen. Undoubtedly the cavalry also became worse, the want of good horses was at last more sensibly felt than that of men, and the heavy cavalry could not be kept up, whilst in the last year the service of the scouts and foraging parties for the commissariat was brought to great perfection. Nevertheless the cavalry were the most effective, for it was their task to decide the battle by their charge. The last army with skilled infantry and Dutch discipline was that of Bavaria under Mercy, from 1643 to 1645.

The tactics of armies had slowly altered in the course of the century. The old Landsknecht army advanced to battle in three great squares,--the advanced guard, the main body, and the rear guard--disregarding roads and corn-fields; before it went pioneers, who filled in ditches and cut down hedges to clear the way for the bulky mass. For battle, the deep square masses of infantry placed themselves side by side, each square mass consisted of many companies, sometimes of many regiments; the cavalry formed in a similar deep position at the wings. There was no regular reserve, only sometimes one of the three masses was kept back for the final decision; a select body of men, the forlorn hope, was formed for dangerous service, such as forcing the passage of a river, covering an important point, or turning the enemy's flank. Since fire-arms had prevailed over pikes, these great battalions were surrounded by files of sharpshooters, and at last special bodies of sharpshooters were formed and attached to them. In the war in the Netherlands, the unwieldiness of these heavy squares led to breaking the order of battle into smaller tactical bodies. But it was only slowly, that formation in line and a system of reserve were organized. Much of the old method continued in the Imperial army in the beginning of the war. Still the companies of infantry were united in deep squares--in battalions. To take firm positions and assume defensive warfare had become too much the custom in inglorious campaigns against the wild storming Turks. The weight and tenacity of deep masses might certainly be effective, but if the enemy succeeded in bringing his guns to bear upon them, they suffered fearfully, and were very unwieldy in all their movements. Gustavus Adolphus adopted the tactical innovations of the Netherlanders in an enlightened way; when in battle he placed the infantry six, and the cavalry only three deep; he distributed the great masses into small divisions, which firmly connected together, formed the unity of the Swedish brigade; he strengthened the cavalry, placing between them companies of sharpshooters, and introduced light artillery regiments besides those that were in reserve and position, and accustomed his soldiers to rapid offensive movements and daring advances. His infantry fired quicker than the Imperial, and at the battle of Breitenfeld the old Walloon regiments of Tilly were routed by their close platoon firing; he also laid down for his cavalry, those very rules by which a century later Frederick the Great made his, the first in the world; viz., not to stop in order to fire, but at the quickest pace to rush upon the enemy.

During the battle the soldiers recognized one another by their war-cries and distinguishing marks, the officers by their scarfs. For example, at Breitenfeld Tilly's army wore white bands on their hats and helmets, and white lace round the arm, and the Swedes had green branches. The Imperial colour in the field was red, therefore Gustavus Adolphus prohibited his Swedes from wearing that colour,[^[6]] the scarfs of the Swedish officers at the battle of Lützen were green, those of Electoral Saxony during the war were black and yellow, and later, after the acquisition of the Polish crown, red and white.

The soldiers were formed in troops or companies, and these were combined in regiments which had administrative unity. The German infantry regiments consisted of three thousand men, in ten companies of three hundred men; they seldom reached their normal strength, and lost their men in the war with frightful rapidity, so that there were frequently regiments of from a thousand to three hundred, and companies of seventy to thirty men. Cavalry regiments were required to be from five hundred to a thousand men strong; the numbers of the troops were different, and their effective war strength was still more variable.

The titles and duties of officers had already much similarity to the modern German organization. He who had raised a regiment for his Sovereign, was called the colonel of the regiment, even if he had the rank of General; under him were the Lieutenant-colonel and Major. More important for the object of these pages were the officers of companies; the Captain of infantry or cavalry, with his Lieutenant, an Ensign, and sergeant, or troop sergeant-major, non-commissioned officers and lance-corporals, and finally the provost-marshal.

When an officer at the mustering of his company in a circle, was installed as chief captain and father, he begged his dear soldiers, in a friendly manner, to be true and obedient to him, recounted to them their duties, promised to stand by them in every emergency, and as an honest man, devote himself to them in life or death, and leave them whatever he had. Unfortunately the captain's first duty was to be faithful in money concerns, both towards the colonel and his own soldiers, to procure clever good soldiers for the reviewing officer, not to charge for more mercenaries than was right, and to give the soldiers their full pay; but this seldom happened. The temptation to a system of fraudulent gain was great, and conscientiousness in the uncertain life of war was a virtue which quickly disappeared; even the most honourable fell upon dangerous rocks when the pay had been long in arrear, or not fully given. Besides this, it was necessary for him to be an energetic experienced man, just and kind in disposition, but strict in maintaining rights. During the week, he was, according to the old proverb, to look severe, and not to smile upon the soldiers before Sunday; when there was preaching in the camp, the soldiers sat on the ground, but stood up, taking their hats off, before the captain, but he who wore a morion kept it on. On the march, the captain rode, but before the enemy he went on foot, carrying either the pike or the musket of his company.[^[7]]

The banner of the infantry, which was held sacred by the company, had a standard about the size of ours, but the silken flag, like an enormous sail, reached almost to the end of the standard; it was of heavy material, according to the taste of that time, with allegorical pictures painted on it, and short Latin sentences beautifully illuminated. The "cornete" of the cavalry, sometimes vandyked, were smaller, and fixed to the standard like our banners. The regiments were sometimes called after the colours of the banners; for example, in Electoral Saxony, where the ground of the banners was always of two colours, they were called the black and yellow, blue and white, red and yellow, regiments; each of the ten banners of the regiment also had its especial emblem and motto, and different combinations of the regimental colours, grained, striped and in squares, yet the chief standard showed the regimental colours only on the border. The "cornete" of the cavalry had a ground of only one colour: the corps of cavalry were denoted according to the colours of their banners, and not by their uniforms, which they hardly ever wore; for example:--"two corps of orange-coloured cornet cuirassiers," "five corps of steel-green cornet arquebussiers." The Swedes also distinguished their brigades, which were in Germany frequently called regiments, by the colour of their banners; thus, besides the yellow (Body Guard) there were the green, blue, white, and red. The colours of regiments were often chosen from the armorial bearings of the colonel, especially if he had raised the regiment. Gradually, however, it became the custom in all the armies to call the regiments after the names of the officers.

The flag was attached to the standard and erected in the midst of the circle of enlisted soldiers; then the Colonel delivered the banner to the Ensign, and thus gave it into his charge:--"As your bride or your own daughter, from the right hand to the left; and if both your arms should be shot or cut off, you should take it with your mouth; and if you cannot preserve it thus, wrap yourself therein, commit yourself to God so to be slain, and die as an honourable man." As long as the colours were flying, and a piece of the standard left, the soldiers were to follow the Ensign to the death, till all should lie in a heap on the battle-field, that no evildoer or blameworthy person should be sheltered by the flag; if any one should transgress against the banner oath, the Ensign was to furl the banner, and forbid the transgressor to march under it or mount guard, and he was obliged to go among the bad women and children with the baggage till the affair was arranged: the Ensign was not to leave the colours a single night without permission; when he slept he was to have them by him, and never to separate himself from them; if they should be torn from the standard by treachery or some roguish attendant, the Ensign should be delivered over to the common soldiers to be judged for life or death, according to their will. It was necessary for him to be tall, powerful, manly, and valiant, and a cheerful companion, friendly to every one, a mediator and peace-maker; he was not to inflict punishment on any one, that he might incur no hatred. In the open field under the unfurled colours appointments were declared and the articles of war read. A trooper was not, without permission, to be out of sight of the colours when the army was marching or encamped; whoever fled from the colours in battle was to die for it, and whoever killed him was to be unpunished: if an Ensign should abandon a fort or redoubt before he had held out against three assaults without relief, he transgressed the rules of war; a regiment lost its colours if from cowardice it yielded a fortress before the time. It was not long since pike-law was given up, the severe tribunal of the Landsknechte, where, before the circle of common soldiers, the provost-marshal accused the evil-doer, and forty chosen men, officers and soldiers, pronounced judgment: at the beginning of the trial the Ensigns furled their colours, and reversed them with the iron point in the ground, and demanded a sentence, because the colours could not fly over an evil-doer. If the transgressor was condemned to the spear, or to be shot by the arquebussiers, then the Ensign thanked them for their judgment on the offender, unfurled the colours, and caused them to fly towards the east, comforted the poor sinner, and promised to meet him halfway, and thereby to deliver him by taking him under the protection of the colours. When the line of pikes was formed they went to the end of it with their backs towards the sun; but the transgressor had to bless the soldiers and pray for a speedy death, then the provost gave him three strokes with his staff on the right shoulder and pushed him into the lane. Whoever had disgraced himself, if the colours were waved three times over him, was freed from his disgrace. The Ensign received every three years, money for a new flag or dress (from eighty to a hundred gulden), and for that he was to make a present to the company of two casks of beer or wine.

The office of Cornet of cavalry was less responsible. It was his duty to rush vigorously upon the enemy, and after the attack to raise his standard on high, that his people might collect round him. In the Hungarian war the Cornet passed sometimes into the rank of Lieutenant, and in some regiments (the Wallenstein army for instance) this custom was kept up.

The most important man of the company next to the Captain was the Sergeant; he was the drill-master and spokesman for the soldiers, and had to mark out with flags the position to be taken up by the troops of the Imperial batons, or Swedish brigades, to arrange the men, placing in the front and rear ranks and at the sides, the best armed and most efficient men, to mingle the halberds and short weapons, to lead and keep with the arquebussiers; he was the instructor of the company, and knew the proper and warlike use of his weapons.

As the "mob" who came together from for and near under a banner were difficult to keep in order, the greater part of them not to be depended on, and unskilled in the exercise of their weapons, the number of non-commissioned officers was necessarily very great, frequently indeed they formed more than a third of the troop. Any one who had military capacity or could be depended upon, was marked out by the subordinate commander for higher pay and posts of confidence. Amongst the numerous functions and manifold designations of the subalterns, some are particularly characteristic. In the beginning of the war every company had, according to the old Landsknecht custom, their "leader," who, in the first instance at least, was chosen by the soldiers. He was the tribune of the company, their spokesman, who had to lay their grievances and wishes before the Captain, and to represent the interests of the soldiery. It may easily be understood that such an arrangement did not strengthen the discipline of the army; it was done away with in time of war. Even the thankless office of quartermaster was of greater importance than now; the complaints of the soldiers, who quarrelled about the bad quarters he had provided for them, he met with defiance, and inspired them with fear of his usurious practices. When a company came to a deserted village, the serjeants threw their knives into the hat of the quartermaster; he then went from house to house, sticking the blades as they came to his hand in the door-posts, and every band (of six or eight men) followed their leader's knife. When poor members of the nobility, candidates for commission, of whom the number was often great, presented themselves, their names were inscribed on the list of lance-corporals. Old vagabonds full of pretension were designated in the military kitchen Latin by the title of "Ambesaten," and afterwards "Landspassaten;" they were orderlies and messengers receiving higher pay, representatives and assistants of the Corporals. There was a general endeavour to add a deputy to every office, as the Lieutenant to the Captain, an under Ensign to the Ensign, to the Serjeant an under Serjeant, and frequently with the infantry a vidette for the sentinels at out-posts; in the same way serjeants were deputies to the officers, and the "Landspassaten" to the Corporal, and the provost to the provost-general, &c., &c.

The army consisted, with few exceptions, of enlisted soldiers. The Sovereign empowered an experienced leader by patent to raise for him an army, a regiment, or a company; recruiting places were sought for and a muster place established where the recruits were collected. The recruits were paid their travelling expenses or bounty; at the beginning of the war this was insignificant, and sometimes deducted from their pay, but later the bounty increased, and was given to the soldiers. At the beginning of the war negotiations were carried on with every mercenary, about the pay, at the muster-place. The soldier in quarters received nothing but his pay, which in 1600, for the common foot soldier, amounted to from fifteen to sixteen gulden a month.[^[8]] With this they had to procure for themselves weapons, clothing, and food. Garrisons were provided with stores by the quarter-master, the cost being reimbursed to him. During the great war, however, the arrangements about pay were often deviated from, the distribution of it to the soldiers was very irregular.

In the Imperial army the pay, exclusive of food, was nine gulden to the pikeman and six to the musketeer. In the Swedish army it was still lower, but was in the beginning more regularly paid, and there was more care about the provisions. The whole sustenance of the army was charged upon the province by a hard system of requisition, even on friendly territory. The maintenance of the upper officers was very high, and yet formed only a small share of their income. During the time of service the troops were entered on the muster-roll by a court of comptrol, the reviewing officer, or commissary of the Prince; in order to prevent the officers and commanders drawing too much pay, when they were assembled round the flag, the names of the deserters were written apart, and beside each name a gallows was painted. At the time of muster if any one was unserviceable or had served a long time, he was taken off the muster-roll, and declared free, given his discharge, and provided with a pass or certificate. Whoever wished for leave, obtained a pass from the Ensign. The soldier had to clothe himself, uniforms were only found exceptionally; the halberdiers of the life-guards, and the heavily armed cavalry, so far as armour was concerned, were generally furnished by the Sovereign; but before the war it was only occasionally done, and then pay was deducted for it, or the Colonel took back the armour after the campaign.

The military discipline of the Germans was, in the beginning of the war, in the worst repute. The German soldiers were considered by other nations as idle, turbulent, refractory bullies;[^[9]] they had been not a little spoilt by service in half-barbarous countries, as Hungary and Poland then were, and against the barbarian Turks. When individuals had to chaffer about their pay, discontent began; when the Captain would not satisfy the claims of the enlisted mercenary, the malcontent threw his musket angrily at the feet of the former, and went off with the money for his travelling-expenses, there was no means of detaining him. Though the Ensign was bound by oath, the Captain only too frequently found advantage in favouring plunder and the nightly desertion of the banner, for he had his share of the soldier's booty; the worst thieves were the best bees.

The paymasters were always deeply hated, because they generally gave the regiments short pay and bad coin; they and other commissaries of the sovereign were exposed to much insult when they came to the camp. The worst things are related of the Commanders-in-chief, above all, that they received more pay than they distributed to the soldiers; still worse were the Generals. Frequently open mutiny broke out, and then the mutineers placed a Colonel or Captain in the middle of them, and chose him for their leader. The same thing took place in Hungary. Indeed it happened, during the armistice preceding the Westphalian peace, that in a Bavarian dragoon regiment, a corporal of the garrison of Hilperstein nominated himself Colonel of the regiment, and by the help of his comrades drove away the officers; the regiment was surrounded by loyal soldiers, the new Colonel with eighteen of the ringleaders were executed, the muskets were taken from the regiment, it was resworn and formed anew as a cavalry regiment. The arrears of pay were the usual cause of mutiny. In the year 1620, the regiment of Count Mansfeld mutinied. He began to pay, but meanwhile leaving his tent, struck down two of the soldiers with his own hands, severely wounding them; he then mounted his horse, sprang into the midst of the mutineers, and shot many of them. He alone with three captains subdued the insolence of six hundred men, after having slain eleven, and severely wounded six-and-twenty. If it was difficult to secure obedience to military commands whilst the banner was waving, still greater was the burst of resentment when it was furled and the regiment was disbanded. Then the provost, the prostitutes, and the soldiers' sons hid themselves; the Captain, Lieutenant, and other commanders were obliged to submit to abusive language and challenges, and to hear themselves thus accosted: "Ha, you fellow, you have been my commander, now you are not a jot better than I; a pound of your hair is of no more importance to me than a pound of cotton; out with you, let's have a scuffle!" Whenever punishment was administered, the commanders were in danger from the revenge of the culprit or his friends. The disbanded soldiers quarrelled amongst each other, as they did with their officers, and sometimes there were as many as a hundred parties in one place engaged in duelling. The most wanton death-blows were dealt, and murders perpetrated, such as have never been heard of since the beginning of Christianity. When the banner was unfurled, it was customary for the combatants to join hands and vow to fight out their quarrel when their term of service was ended, and till then to live together in brotherly love. When this disbanding took place, the most disorderly of the soldiers combined together and began an "armour cleaning" of those comrades to whom, during service, the officers had shown favour; that is to say, they robbed them of all, deprived them of their clothes, beat and almost killed them. All these crimes were tolerated, and the powerless commander-in-chief looked passively on these proceedings as a mere custom of war.

During the Hungarian campaigns the soldiers adopted the habit of only remaining by their banners during the summer months; they found their reckoning in serving a short time, and mutinying if more was desired of them; for during the autumn and winter they went with two, three, or more boys as "Gartbrüder"[^[10]] through the country, a fearful plague to the farmers in eastern Germany. In the frontier countries, Silesia, Austria, Bohemia, and Styria, it was even commanded by the sovereigns to pay a farthing to every soldier who was roving about as "Gartbrüder." Thus by their refractory conduct they daily obtained a gulden or more; their boys pilfered where they could, and were notorious poachers. Wallhausen, whilst making other energetic complaints, reckons that the support of a standing army would cost less to the princes and states, and secure greater success against the enemy, than this old bad system.

More than once during the long war, these wild armies were brought under the constraint of strict discipline by the powerful will of individuals, and each time great military successes were obtained; but this was not of any duration. The discipline of the Wallenstein army was excellent in a military point of view; but what the commander permitted with regard to citizens and peasants was horrible. Even Gustavus Adolphus could not preserve for more than a year, the strict discipline which on his landing in Pomerania was so triumphantly lauded by the Protestant ecclesiastics. It is true that the military law and articles of war contained a number of legal rules for all soldiers, concerning the forbearance to be observed even in an enemy's land towards the people and their property. The women, invalids, and aged were under all circumstances to be spared, and mills and ploughs were not to be injured. But it is not by the laws themselves, but by the administration of them, that we can judge of the peculiar characteristics of a period.

The punishments were in themselves severe. With the Swedes,--for the embezzlement of money intended for the hospitals or invalid soldiers, the wooden horse with its iron fittings was awarded, or running the gauntlet (for this hardy fellows were hired to take upon them the punishment), or loss of the hand, shooting, or hanging. For whole divisions,--the loss of their banners, cleaning the camp and lying outside it, and decimation. In the beginning of the war many of the old Landsknecht customs were maintained, for instance, their criminal court of justice, in which the law was decided by the people through select jurymen. And before the war, together with this, court-martials had been introduced. During the war a military tribunal was organized according to the modern German method, under the presidency of the advocate-general, and the provost-marshal superintended the execution. But even in punishments there was a difference between the army and the citizens and peasants. The soldier was put in irons, but not in the stocks or in prison; no soldier was ever hanged on a common gallows, or in a common place of execution, but on a tree or on a special gallows, which was erected in the city for the soldiers in the market-place; the old form by which the delinquent was given over to the hangman was thus expressed: "He shall take him to a green tree and tie him up by the neck, so that the wind may blow under and over him, and the sun shine on him for three days; then shall he be cut down and buried according to the custom of war." But the perjured deserter was hanged to a withered tree. Whoever was sentenced to death by the sword, was taken by the executioner to a public place, where he was cut in two, the body being the largest and the head the smallest portion. The provost and his assistant also were in nowise dishonoured by their office; even the avoided executioner's assistant, the "Klauditchen" of the army, who was generally taken from among the convicts, and who was allowed to choose between punishment and this dishonourable office, could, if he fulfilled his office faithfully, become respectable when the banner was unfurled; he could then receive his certificate like any other gallant soldier, and no one could speak evil of him.

There was one circumstance which distinguished the armies of the Thirty years' war from those of modern days, and which made their entrance into a province like an eruption of a heterogeneous race of strangers: each soldier, in spite of his short term of service in the field, was accompanied by his household. Not only the higher officers, but also the troopers and foot-soldiers, took their wives, and still more frequently their mistresses with them in a campaign. Women from all countries, adorned to the utmost of their power, followed the army, and sought entrance into the camp, because they had a husband, friend, or cousin there. At the mustering or disbanding of a regiment, even respectable maidens were, through the most cruel artifices, carried off by disorderly bands, and when the money was all spent, left sometimes without clothes, or at some carousal sold from one to another. The women who accompanied the soldiers cooked and washed for them, nursed the sick, provided them with drink, bore their blows, and on the march carried the children and any of the plunder or household implements which could not be conveyed by the baggage waggons. It is known that the King of Sweden on his first arrival in Germany would not suffer any such women in the camp; but after his return from Franconia, this strict discipline seems to have ceased. Whoever peruses the old church records of the village parishes will find sometimes the names of maidens, who, having been carried off, returned at the end of a year to their village home, and submitted themselves to the severest Church penances in order to die amongst the ruined population of their birthplace. The women of the camp were also under martial law. For great offences they were flogged, and driven out of the camp; the soldiers too were hard masters, and little of what had been promised them in the beginning was kept.

The children accompanied the women. In the Swedish army military schools were established by Gustavus Adolphus, in which the children were instructed even in the camp. In these migratory schools strict military discipline prevailed, and a story, which cannot be warranted, is told of a cannonball having passed through a school in the Swedish camp, and having killed many of the children, but the survivors continued their sum in arithmetic.

Some soldiers maintained one or more lads, a crafty, stubborn set of good-for-nothings, who waited upon their masters, cleaned their horses, sometimes bore their armour, and fed their shaggy dogs; nimble spies who prowled about far and near on the traces of opulent people, and on the look-out for concealed money.

The plundering by the baggage-train was almost worse in a friendly country. When the soldiers with the women and children came to a farmhouse, they pounced like hawks upon the poultry in the yard, then broke open the doors, seized upon the trunks and chests, and with abusive language, threatened, importuned and destroyed, what they could not consume or take away. On decamping they compelled the owner to horse his waggons and take them to their next quarters. Then they filled the waggons with the clothes, beds, and household goods of the farmers, binding round their bodies what could not otherwise be carried away.

"Frequently," says the indignant narrator Wallhausen, "the women did not choose to be drawn by oxen, and it was necessary to procure horses, sometimes from a distance of six miles, to the great cost of the country people, and when they came with the waggons to the nearest quarters, they would not allow the poor people to return home; but dragged them with them to another territory, and at last stole the horses and made off."

In the beginning of the war, a German infantry regiment had to march for some days through the country of their own sovereign; there were as many women and children with the baggage-train, as soldiers, and they stole in eight days from the subjects of their sovereign almost sufficient horses for each soldier to ride. The colonel, a just and determined man, frequently dragged the soldiers himself from the horses, and at last enforced their restoration by extreme severity. But it was impossible to prevent the women from riding; there was not one who had not a stolen horse, and if they did not ride them they harnessed them three or four together to the peasants' carts.

Only a few of the otherwise copious writers of that time make mention of this despised portion of the army; yet there are sufficient accounts, from which we may conclude that great influence was produced by the baggage-train on the fate of the army and the country. Especially by the enormous extent of it. At the end of the sixteenth century Adam Junghans reckons, that in a besieged fortress where the camp-followers were reduced to the smallest possible number, to three hundred infantry soldiers, there were fifty women and forty children, besides sutlers, horseboys, &c., &c., somewhat more than a third of the soldiers. But in the field the proportion was quite different even in the beginning of the war. Wallhausen reckons as indispensable to a German regiment of infantry, four thousand women, children, and other followers. A regiment of three thousand men had at least three hundred waggons, and every waggon was full to repletion of women, children, and plundered goods; when a company broke up from its quarters, it was considered an act of self-denial if it did not carry away with it thirty or more waggons. At the beginning of the war a regiment of north German soldiers, three thousand strong, started from the muster-place where it had remained some time, followed by two thousand women and children.

From that time the baggage-train continued increasing to the end of the war. It was only for a brief space of time that great commanders, like Tilly, Wallenstein, and Gustavus Adolphus were able to diminish this great plague of the army. In 1648, at the end of the great war, the Bavarian General, Gronsfeld, reports that in the Imperial and Bavarian armies there were forty thousand soldiers who drew war rations, and a hundred and forty thousand who did not; on what were these to subsist if they did not obtain their food by plunder, especially as in the whole country where the army encamped, there was not a single place where a soldier could buy a bit of bread. In the year 1648 the camp-followers were more than three times the number of the fighting-men. These numbers tell more significantly than any deductions, what a dreadful amass of misery surrounded these armies.

Before we proceed to describe the influence which armies thus composed exercised upon the life of the German people, we must once more remind the reader, that this monstrous evil was not created by the Thirty years' war, but for the most part already in existence. Some observations will therefore be here introduced from the above-quoted and now rare little book, written by Adam Junghans von der Olnitz, at that period when the worth and capacity of the old Landsknecht army passed away into the wild dissolute life of mercenaries. It appears here as the prologue to the monstrous tragedy which began twenty years later.

"Each and every officer, captain of horse, or other captain, knows well that no doctors, magisters, or any other God-fearing people, follow in his train, but only a heap of ill-disposed lads, out of all kinds of nations; strange folks, who leave wives and children, abandon their duties, and follow the army; all that will not follow the pursuits of their fathers and mothers, must follow the calf-skin which is spread over the drum, till they come to a battle or assault, where thousands lie on the field of battle, shot or cut to pieces; for a Landsknecht's life hangs by a hair, and his soul flutters on his cap or his sleeve. Besides, three kinds of herbs always grow with war; these are, sharp rule, fifty forbidden articles, and severe judgment with speedy sentence, which fits many a neck with a hempen collar.

"It is not enough that a soldier should be strong, straight, manly, tyrannical, bloody-minded, in his actions like a grim lion, and behave like a bully, as if he himself would catch and eat the devil alone, so that none of his comrades should partake of him; but these trigger-pullers wantonly bring themselves to destruction by their stupidity, and other good fellows with them. Another is a snorer, and a kicker, and stamps like a wild horse on the straw, and when he goes into battle, and the balls whistle about his head, he is a martyr and poor sinner, who would for very fear soil his hosen, and allow his weapon to fall from his hand. But when they sit at the tap, or in the cantinières' stalls, or in public-houses, then they have seen much and can do nothing but fight, then a fly on the wall irritates them, there is no peace with them, then they are ready to fight the enemy with great curses. Such 'bear-prickers' are generally found out; one seldom finds one who is not maimed in the hands or arms, or has a scar on the cheek, and they have never really all their lives long, faced the enemy. The captain may well keep clear of such fellows, for they are generally seditious mutineers. A wise soldier avoids quarrels and public-house brawls whenever he can, that he may have his skin whole and uninjured to bring in front of the enemy. To be wounded by the enemy is an honour, but he who injures himself wantonly must expect scorn and derision, and is of no use to any army. Such a fellow must remain all his life a paltry beggar; he roves about the country, begs bread and sells it again, feeds like a wolf, and when the rats and mice are drowned in the countrywoman's milk, he maintains himself on the cheese made from it, and must submit to the rough words of the peasants, and herd with other poor beggars to the end of his life. Besides these, there are many who wish to be soldiers, mothers' sons, beardless boys, like young calves, who know nothing of suffering, who have sat beside the stove and roasted apples, and lain in warm beds. When they are brought to a foreign country, and meet with all kind of strange arrangements, food, drink, and other things, they are like soft eggs that flow through the fingers, or like paper when it lies in the water. It is thus not only with foot Landsknechte, but also with young nobles. When they are led to the field in devastated countries, where all is consumed and laid waste, and they can no longer carry their well-filled bread wallets and drinking-flasks on their necks, they first pine away, hunger and thirst, then eat and drink unusual things, from which result all kinds of maladies. These delicate vagabonds ought to remain at home, attend to the tillage, or sit in the shop by the pepper-bags, and shift for themselves, as their fathers and mothers have done, fill their stomachs at eventide, and go to bed; thus they would not be slain in war. It is truly said that soldiers must be hardy and enduring people, like unto steel and iron, and like the wild beasts that can eat all kinds of food. According to the jocose saying, the Landsknechte must be able to digest the points of their wheel-nails; nothing must come amiss to them, even if necessity required that they should eat dogs' or cats' flesh, and the flesh of horses from the meadow must be like good venison to them, with herbs unseasoned by salt or butter. Hunger teaches to eat, if one has not seen bread for three weeks. Drink one may have gratis, for if one can get no water from the brook, one can drink with the geese out of the pond or the puddle. One must sleep under a tree, or in the field; there is plenty of earth to lie on, and of sky for a canopy; such must often be the Landsknecht's sleeping-room, and from such a bed no feathers will stick to his hair. Hence arises the old quarrel between the fowls and geese and the Landsknechte, because the former can always sleep in feathers, whilst the latter must often lie in straw. There is another animal that clashes with the Landsknechte, that is the cat; as the soldiers know well how to pilfer, they are enemies to the cats, and friendly to the dogs. According to the old doggerel, a Landsknecht should always have with him a beautiful woman, a dog, and a young boy, a long spear, and a short sword; he is free to seek any master who will give him service. A Landsknecht must make three campaigns before he can become an honourable man. After the first campaign, he must return home wearing torn clothes; after the second, he should return with a scar on one cheek, and be able to tell much of alarms, battles, skirmishes and storming parties, and to show by his scars that he has got the marks of a Landsknecht; after the third, he should return well appointed, on a fine charger, bringing with him a purse full of gold, so that he may be able to distribute whole dollars as he would booty-pence.

"It is truly said, that a soldier must have to eat and drink, whether it is paid for by the sacristan or the priest; for a Landsknecht has neither house nor farm, cows nor calves, and no one to bring him food; therefore he must procure it himself wherever it is to be found, and buy without money whether the peasants look sweet or sour. Sometimes they must suffer hunger and evil days, at others they have abundance, and indeed such superfluity, that they might clean their shoes with wine or beer. Then their dogs eat roast; the women and children get good appointments, they become stewards and cellarers of other people's property. When the householder is driven away with his wife and children, the fowls, geese, fat cows, oxen, pigs, and sheep have a bad time of it. The money is portioned out in their caps, velvet and silk stuffs and cloth are measured out by long spears; a cow is slaughtered for the sake of the hide; chests and trunks are broken open, and when all has been plundered and nothing more remains, the house is set on fire. That is the true Landsknecht's fire, when fifty villages and country towns are in flames. Then they go to other quarters and do the like again; this makes soldiers jolly, and is a desirable life for those who do not pay for it. This entices to the field many a mother's child, who does not return home, and forgets his friends. For the proverb says: 'The Landsknechte have crooked fingers and maimed hands for work, but for pilfering and plundering all the maimed hands become sound.' That has been so before our days, and will remain so truly after us. The longer the Landsknechte learn this handiwork the better they do it, and become circumspect, like the three maidens who had four cradles made, the fourth as a provision in case one of them had two children. Wherever the soldiers come, they bring with them the keys of all the rooms, their axes and hatchets, and if there are not enough stalls in a place for their horses, it does not signify, they stall them in the churches, monasteries, chapels, and best rooms. If there is no dry wood for fire, it matters not, they burn chairs, benches, ploughs, and everything that is in the house; if they want green wood, no one need go far, they cut down the fruit trees in the nearest orchard; for they say, whilst we live here we keep house, to-morrow we go off again into the country, therefore, Mr. Host, be comforted; you have a few guests you would gladly be free from, therefore give freely and write it on the slate. When the house is burnt the account is burnt also. This is the Landsknechts' custom; to make a reckoning and ride off, and pay when we return.

"The French, Italians, and Walloons are as adverse to the Germans as to dogs, but the Spaniards are friendly to them; they however have an unheard-of weakness for women, and are disposed to profligate and godless conduct. Altogether, the Germans are but little thought of by these nations, who call them nothing but drunkards, proud featherpates, mighty braggadocios, blasphemers of God, 'Hans Muffmaff' with the beggar's wallet, who would willingly play the great man. And if one comes to look at it, it is not far from the truth. For there is a new custom amongst the North Germans when they go to war, or collect together under a master, they spend all their goods and possessions on ostentatious splendour, as if they were going to a bride, or riding to a banquet. Thus the Germans who were formerly called the Blackriders, come riding along with silver daggers, seven pound in weight, in velvet clothes, and shining boots, with short holster pistols inlaid with ivory, and large wide padded sleeves; they are ashamed of carrying cuirass or armour, or indeed a spear, or any other murderous weapons, as in the olden time. Hence it arises, that they never hold together. Then when Hans Spaniard comes with his tilting spear and proof armour, these chaw-bacons, with their short holster pistols, must run away or yield their money and blood.

"Further, it is a misfortune to the Germans, that they take to imitating, like monkeys and fools. As soon as they come amongst other soldiers, they must have Spanish or other outlandish clothes. If they could babble foreign languages a little, they would associate themselves with Spaniards and Italians. The Germans would like to mingle with foreign nations, and take pleasure in outlandish dress and manners, 'but one should not place the vermin in the fur, it comes there without.' It is clear that foreign people have become our neighbours, and it is to be feared that they will in a few years come nearer. The frontier lords, who still rest in tranquillity, fight against the wind, speak quite wisely thereupon, comfort themselves, and have in talk, all their cities and villages full of soldiers to defend the country and withstand all enemies. But I fear that they prefer sitting by the stove in winter, and in the shade in summer, playing draughts, or striking the guitar, or dancing with Jungfrau Greta, to providing their houses with good weapons or armour.

"On this account, and because all foreign nations cry out all over Germany, 'Cruci, cruci, mordio, mordio!' and grind their teeth like ravenous wolves, and desire and hope to bathe in German blood, one must earnestly pray God not to withdraw his hand, but to take under his protection this little vessel, tossed on the wild sea, cover it with his wings, and preserve it from all storms; for we see how the Roman Empire has declined from day to day, and still continues to do so. These sufferings come from nothing but the proceedings of the ecclesiastics, whereof the whole world complains. If one finds one right-minded preacher there are ten to the contrary; every tradesman praises his own wares, everyone will feed his own flock, and lead them the right way to heaven, yet no one knows, save the devil and our Lord, where the false shepherds go to themselves. Every one abuses, slanders, and condemns the other; when they stand in the pulpit, the devil is their preceptor, who helps them to manage so that one kingdom is at variance with another, one country rebellious against the other; neighbour can no longer agree with neighbour; nay one finds even at one table four or five different faiths, one will worship on this mountain and another on yonder. May the eternal Almighty God strengthen the hearts of the dear North Germans, give them an upright spirit, and raise them up again, that they may one day rise from the ashes, and renew their ancient repute, and their good name. God help the righteous."

Thus writes an honourable officer before the year 1600.

CHAPTER II.

THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.--LIFE AND MANNERS OF THE SOLDIERS.

Almost all the people of Europe sent their least promising sons to the long war. Not only did foreign mercenaries follow the recruiting drum like crows to the battle-field, but the whole of Christian Europe was drawn into the struggle; foreigners trampled on the German soil in companies and regiments: English and Scotch, Danes, Fins and Swedes, besides the Netherlanders (whom the people considered as countrymen), fought on the side of the Protestants. Even the Laplanders came with their reindeer to the German coast; in the winter months of 1630 they brought upon their sledges over the ice, furs for the Swedish army. But still more chequered did the Imperial army look. The Roumaun Walloons, Irish adventurers, Spaniards, Italians, and almost every Sclavonic race broke into the country; worst of all the light cavalry,--Cossacks, Polish auxiliaries (who were for the most part slaughtered by the country people in 1620), Stradiots (among them undoubtedly some Mahomedans), and, most hated of all, the Croats. The position of the Emperor in the beginning of the war was striking in this respect, that he had almost nothing but Sclavonic and Roumaun soldiers, and only Roumaun money to oppose the Germans. By them the national rising was crushed, and it is probable that half the troops of the League consisted of foreigners.

Each army was a sample of the different nationalities; in each there was an intermixture of many languages; and the hatred of nations seldom ceased even when fighting under the same colours. It was especially necessary in the camp to arrange the regiments according to the good understanding between them. Germans and Italians were always kept apart.

The Field-marshal or Quartermaster-general chose the site of the camp; if possible by running water, and in a position which was favourable for defence. First of all was measured out the place for the General and his staff; large ornamented tents were raised on the ground thus set apart, which was divided from the rest of the camp by barriers and by planting spears, frequently even by fortifications. An open place was left close to it for the main-guard; if the army remained long encamped, a gallows was erected there as a warning. The position of each regiment and company was marked out with branches; the troops were marched in, the ranks were opened, the colours of each regiment were planted in the ground in rows side by side; behind in parallel lines lay the encampment of the company, always fifty men in a row; near the colours was the Ensign, in the middle the Lieutenant, at the rear the Captain, and behind all the tents of the superior officers and officials; the surgeon next to the Ensign, and the chaplain near the Captain. The officers lived in tents, often in conical forms fastened with cords to the ground. The soldiers built themselves little huts of planks and straw. The pikemen planted their pikes in the ground near the huts; the pikes, short spears, halberds, partisans, and standards showed from afar the rank and weapons of the inhabitant of the tent. Two or four soldiers were generally housed in a hut, with their wives, children, and dogs. Thus they lay encamped, company by company, regiment by regiment, in great squares or circles, the whole camp surrounded by a large space which served as an alarm post. Before the Thirty years' war it was customary to set up a barricade round the camp; then the train or baggage-waggons were pushed together in double or more rows, and bound by chains or fastenings to the great square or circle, leaving free the necessary openings. Then also the cavalry had their camp next the inner side of the waggons; the necessary partitions were erected for the horses near the huts and tents of the horsemen. This custom had become obsolete, and it was only occasionally that the waggons surrounded the camp, but it was protected by trenches, mounds, and field-pieces. At the openings sentinels were posted, outside the camp, troops of horse and a chain of outposts of musketeers or arquebussiers were stationed. Each Ensign planted the colours before his tent; near it was the drummer of the company, and a musketeer kept watch with a burning match in his hand and his musket supported horizontally on its rest.

In such a camp it was that the wild soldiery dwelt in unbridled licence, insupportable to the neighbourhood even in a friendly country. The provinces, cities, and villages were obliged to supply wood, straw, fodder, and provisions, the waggons rolled along every road, and droves of fat cattle were collected. The neighbouring villages quickly disappeared; as all the wood-work and thatching was torn away by the soldiers and employed in building their huts, only the shattered clay walls remained. The soldiers and their boys roved about the neighbourhood, plundering and stealing, and the cantineers drove about with their carts. In the camp the soldiers congregated in front of their huts; meanwhile the women cooked, washed, mended the clothes and squabbled together; there was constant tumult and uproar and bloody crimes, fighting with bare weapons, and combats between the different services or nations. Every morning the crier and the trumpet called to prayer, even among the Imperialists; early on the Sunday the regimental chaplain performed service in the camp, then the soldiers and their households seated themselves devoutly on the ground, and it was forbidden for any one during service to loiter and drink in the canteens. It is known how much Gustavus Adolphus inculcated pious habits and prayers; after his arrival in Pomerania he caused prayers to be read twice a day in his camp, but even in his army, it was necessary in the articles of war to admonish the chaplains against drunkenness.

In the open space in front of the main guard was the gambling ground, covered with cloaks and set with tables, round which all the gamesters crowded. There the card-playing of the old Landsknechte gave place to the quicker games of the dice. The use of dice was frequently forbidden in the camp, and stopped by the captain of the guard and the provost; then the gamblers assembled privately behind the fence, and played away their ammunition, bread, horses, weapons, and clothes, so that it was found necessary to place them under the supervision of the main-guard. Three square dice were rolled on each cloak or table, called in camp language "Schelmbeine;" each set had its croupier; to him belonged the cloak, table, and dice; he had the office of judge in cases of dispute, and his share of the winnings, but also frequently of blows. There was much cheating and cogging; many dice had two fives or sixes, many, two aces or deuces, others were filled with quicksilver and lead, split hair, sponge, chaff, and charcoal; there were dice made of stags-horn, heavy below and light above, "Niederländer,"[^[11]] which must be slid along, and "Oberländer,"[^[12]] which must be thrown "from Bavarian Heights" for them to fall right; often the noiseless work was interrupted by curses, quarrels, and flashing rapiers. Lurking tradespeople, frequently Jews, slipped in, ready to value and buy up the rings, chains, and booty staked.

Behind the tents of the upper officers and the regimental provost, separated from them by a wide street, stood the shops of the cantineers in parallel cross rows. Cantineers, butchers, and common victuallers formed an important community. The price of their goods was decided by the provost, who received a perquisite in money or in kind; for example, he received a tongue for every beast that was killed. On every cask which was to be tapped, he wrote the retail price with chalk. By these compacts, and the favour of the powerful, which was to be bought by time-serving, the purveyors of the army maintained a proportionably secure position, and insured themselves the payment, though irregular, of their long tallies, which were scored equally for the officers and soldiers. In good times traders came from afar to the camp with expensive stuffs, jewels, gold and silver workmanship, and delicacies. In the beginning of the war especially, the officers set a bad example to the army by their extreme luxury; every captain would have a French cook, and consumed the dearest wine in great quantities.

The military signals of the camp were, for the infantry the beat of the drum, for the cavalry the trumpet: the drum was very large, the drummer often a half-grown boy, sometimes the fool of the company. In the beginning of the war, the German army had in many cases a uniform beat. Every command from the General to the camp, had to be proclaimed by a herald riding through it with a trumpeter. On such occasions the herald wore over his dress a "tabard" of coloured silk, embroidered before and behind with the arms of the sovereign. This proclamation, which announced to the camp in the evening the work of the following day, was very destructive to secret and rapid operations; it was also very injurious to discipline, for it announced to the loiterers and robbers of the camp, the night when they might steal out for booty.

When times were prosperous, a battle won, a rich city plundered, or an opulent district laid under contribution, everything was plentiful, food and drink cheap; and it once happened, in the last year of the war, that in the Bavarian camp a cow was bought for a pipe of tobacco. The Croats of the Imperial army in Pomerania, in the winter of 1630 and 1631, had their girdles overlaid with gold, and whole plates of gold and silver on the breast. Paul Stockmann, a pastor at Lützen, relates, that in the Imperial army, before the battle of Lützen, one horseman had his horse decorated with a quantity of golden stars, and another with three hundred silver moons; and the soldiers' women wore the most beautiful church dresses and mass vestments, and that some Stradiots rode in plundered priests' dresses, to the great mirth of their comrades. In these times also carousers drank to one another in costly wine from the chalices, and caused long chains to be made of the plundered gold, from which, according to the old knightly custom, they severed links to pay for a carousal. But the longer the war lasted the more rare were these golden times. The devastation of the country revenged itself fearfully on the army itself; the pale spectre of hunger, the forerunner of pestilence, glided through the lines of the camp, and raised its bony hand against every straw hut. Then supplies from the surrounding districts ceased, the price of provisions was raised so as to be almost unattainable; a loaf of bread, for example, in the Swedish army in 1640, at Gotha, cost a ducat. Hollow-eyed pale faces, sick and dying men, were to be seen in every row of huts; the vicinity of the camp was pestilential from the decaying bodies of dead animals. All around was a wilderness of uncultivated fields, blackened with the ruins of villages, and the camp itself a dismal city of death.

A broad stream of superstition had flowed through the souls of the people from ancient times up to the present day, and the soldier's life of the Thirty years' war revived an abundance of peculiar superstitions, of which a portion continues even now; it is worth while to dwell a little upon these characteristic phenomena.

The belief that it is possible to make the body proof by magic against the weapons of the enemy, and on the other hand to make your own arms fatal to them, is older than the historical life of the German people. In the earliest times, however, something gloomy was attached to this art; it might easily become pregnant with fatality, even to its votaries. The invulnerability was not unconditional, and succumbed to the stronger counter-magic of the offensive weapon: Achilles had a heel which was not invulnerable; no weapon could wound the Norse god Baldur, but the waving of a branch of misletoe by a blind man killed him; Siegfried had a weak spot between the shoulders, the same which the soldiers of the Thirty years' war considered also as vulnerable. Among the numerous Norse traditions are many accounts of charmed weapons: the sword, the noblest weapon of heroes, was considered as a living being, also as a slaying serpent or a destroying fire; when it was shattered, it was spoken of by the Norse poets as dying. It was unnecessary to charm swords forged by dwarfs, as there was a destroying magic concealed in them; thus the sword of Hagens, the father of Hilda, was death to any man when it was drawn from the sheath, magic Runic character being scratched on the hilt and blade of it.

The introduction of fire-arms gave a new aspect and a wider scope to this superstition; the flash and report of the weapon, and the distant striking of the ball, imposed the more on the fancy, the less the imperfect weapon was certain of hitting: the course of the deadly shot was considered malicious and incalculable. Undoubtedly the literature of the Reformation seldom touched upon this kind of magic; it first made itself heard in the middle of the century, when it served to portray the condition of the people. But in armies, the belief in magic was general and widely spread, travelling scholars and gipsies were the most zealous vendors of its secrets, one generation of Landsknechte imparted it to the next: in Italy and in the armies of Charles V., Italian and German superstitions were mixed, and in the time of Fronsperg and Schärtlin almost every detail of the art of rendering invulnerable is to be found. Luther, in 1527, inveighs against the superstition of the soldiery: "One commits himself to St. George, another to St. Christopher, some to one saint, some to another; some can charm iron and gun-flints, others can bless the horse and his rider, and some carry the gospel of St. John,[^[13]] or somewhat else with them, in which they confide." He himself had known a Landsknecht, who, though made invulnerable by the devil, was killed, and announced beforehand the day and place of his death. Bernhard von Milo, Seneschal at Wittenberg, sent to Luther for his opinion on a written charm for wounds; it was a long roll of paper written in wonderful characters.

When the Augsburg gunner, Samuel Zimmermann the elder, wrote the experiences of his life up to 1591, in a folio volume, under the title of 'Charms against all Stabs, Strokes, and Shots, full of great secrets,' he mentions only the defensive incantations, which he did not consider as the works of Belial; but it is apparent from his manuscript that many devilish arts were known to him, which he intended to conceal. Another well-known Zimmermann, who was hardened, received a fearful blow from a dagger; there was no wound to be seen, but he died shortly after from the internal effect of the blow. In 1558 there was an invulnerable soldier in the regiment of Count Lichtenstein, who, after every skirmish, shook the enemy's balls off his dress and his bare body; he often showed them, and the holes burnt through his clothes; he was at last slain by some foreign peasants.

When the Italians and Spaniards entered the Netherlands in 1568, they carried along with them, with little success, whole packets and books full of magic formulas of conjurations and charms. The French found talismans and magic cards fastened round the necks of the prisoners and the dead, of the Brandenburg troops who had been led by Burgrave Fabian von Dohna, in 1587, as auxiliaries to the Huguenots. When the Jesuit George Scheerer preached at the Court Chapel at Vienna in 1594, before the Archduke Matthias and his Generals, he found it necessary to exhort them earnestly against the use of superstitious charms for cuts, stabs, shots, and burns.

It is therefore unjust in later writers to state, that the art of rendering invulnerable was introduced at Passau by a travelling scholar in the seventeenth century, as Grimmelshausen informs us, or as others will have it, that it was brought into the German army by Kaspar Reithardt von Hersbruck, the executioner; for when Archduke Leopold, the Bishop of Passau, raised the reckless and ill-disciplined bands which spread terror through Alsace and Bohemia by their barbarities, his soldiers only adopted the old traditions which were rooted in German heathenism, and had lingered on through the whole of the middle ages; nay, even the name, "Passau art," which has been customary since then, may rest on a misunderstanding of the people, for in the sixteenth century all who bore charms about them to render them invulnerable were called by the learned soldier, "Pessulanten," or "Charakteristiker," and whoever understood the art of dissolving a charm was a "Solvent." It is possible that the first of these popular designations was changed into "Passauer."

Even in the first year of the Thirty years' war, the art of rendering invulnerable was eagerly discussed. A good account of it can be found in 'The true narrative of the siege and capture by storm of the city of Pilsen in Bohemia, 1619.' The passage according to our dialect is as follows:

"An adventurer under Mansfeld, called Hans Fabel, once took a tumbler of beer up to the city trenches and drank it to the besieged. They saluted him with powder and shot; but he drank up his tumbler of beer, thanked them, entered the trenches and took five balls from his bosom. This 'Pilmiskind,'[^[14]] although he was so invulnerable, was taken very sick, and died before the capture of the town. This magical art, 'Passau art,' has become quite common; one would sooner have shot at a rock than at such a charmed fellow. I believe that the devil hides in their skin. One good fellow indeed often charms another, even when the person so charmed does not know it, and still less desires it. A small boy from fourteen to fifteen years of age was shot in the arm when he was beating the drum, but the ball rebounded from the arm to the left breast, and did not penetrate; this was seen by many. But those who use this magic come to a bad end; I have known many such lose their lives in a terrible way, for one delusion struggles against another. Their devilish sorcery is expressly against the first and other commandments of God. Assiduous prayer and faith in God gives other means of support. If any one in presence of the enemy perishes not, it is God's will. If he is struck, the angels take him to heaven, but those who are charmed are taken by Black Kaspar."[^[15]]

Numerous were the means employed by men to make themselves and others invulnerable. Even this superstition was governed tyrannically by fashion. Of very ancient date are the charmed shirts, and the Victory and St. George's shirts; they were prepared in different ways for the Landsknechte. On Christmas night, according to ancient tradition, certain virgins used to spin linen thread in the name of the devil, weave and stitch it; on the breast two heads were embroidered, the one on the right side with a beard, and the left like that of king Beelzebub, with a crown, dark reminiscences of the holy heads of Donar and Wuotan. According to later custom the charmed shirt must be spun by maidens under the age of seven; it was to be sewed with particular cross stitches, laid secretly on the altar till three masses had been read over it. On the day of battle such a charmed shirt was worn under the dress, and if the wearer received a wound, it was owing to other thread having been mixed with that which was charmed.

Superstition gladly availed itself of the miraculous power of the Christian Church, even when in opposition to law. The gospel of St. John was written elaborately on thin paper and placed secretly under the altar cover in a Roman Catholic church, and left there till the priest had thrice read the mass over it; then it was placed in a quill or the shell of a hazel nut, and the opening was cemented with Spanish lac or wax, or this capsule was framed in gold or silver and hung round the neck. Others received the host at the Lord's supper, accompanying it with a silent invocation to the devil; taking the wafer out of their mouths again, they separated the skin from the flesh in some part of the body, placed the wafer there, and let the wound heal over it. The most reckless gave themselves up entirely to the devil; such people could not only make other men invulnerable, but even eatables, such as butter, cheese, and fruit, so that the sharpest knife could not penetrate them.[^[16]]

There was a change of form and name in the written parchments also which contained charms.

"Pope Leo's blessing" originated in the early Landsknecht times; it contained good Christian words and promises. Besides this there was the "Blessing of the Knight of Flanders," so called because a knight who had once worn it could not be beheaded; it was written in strange characters and types interspersed with signs of the cross. Then there was "The benediction," or charm in time of need, which in a moment of danger arrested the sword or gun of the enemy.[^[17]]

Similar were the "Passau charms" of the seventeenth century, written on post paper, virgin parchment, or the host, with a peculiar pen in bat's blood; the superstition was in strange characters, wizard feet, circles, crosses, and the letters of foreign languages; according to Grimmelshausen[^[18]] the rhyme runs thus: Devil help me, body and soul give I thee. When fastened under the left arm they expelled the shot and closed the guns of the enemy. Sometimes even the charms were eaten. But opinions concerning their efficacy were fluctuating. Some thought them safeguards only for four-and-twenty hours; but according to others their magic did not begin to work till after the first four-and-twenty hours, and whoever was shot before that time belonged to the devil. Other charms were also used for protection, everything odious and dismal was collected together, and what had been fearful in the ancient mythology continued to retain its old power. A piece of the cord or chain by which a man had been hung, or the beard of a goat, the eyes of a wolf, the head of a bat and the like, worn round the body in a purse of black cat's skin, rendered a person invulnerable. Hair balls (a mass of hair from the stomach of the chamois), and the caul in which children are born, gave invulnerability; he who had never eaten kidneys was secure from shot or pestilence, and it was believed at Augsburg, that a famous knight and experienced General, Sebastian Schärtlin, had thus protected himself before the enemy.

Old magic herbs, as endive, verbena, St. John's wort, chickweed, vervain, mallow, and garlick were used as charms, and the most powerful of all, the deadly nightshade. It was necessary to dig them up with the best new sharpened steel, and never to touch them with the bare hand, least of all with the left, and they were carried like an Agnus Dei. They were circular, and only found on the battle-fields of great battles, and were, as Zimmermann says, sacred for the sake of the dead. Besides these there was a fire-coloured flower which Cabalists called "Efdamanila;" it not only protected the wearer from shot, stabs, and fire, but when it was hung over the wall in a besieged town near the enemy's cannon, they were spell-bound for a whole month.

Amulet medals also were early in use: in 1555, at the battle of Marienburg, between the Princes of Orange and Nevers, a little child was struck on the neck by a shot, a silver medal was doubled up, and the child remained unhurt; this great effect was then ascribed to an amulet parchment which the child wore round his neck near the medal. But about the same time the "Sideristen," who were experienced in astronomical science, poured out heavenly influence in invulnerable medals of silver and fine gold, which were worn round the neck. Thurneisser spread also these kinds of amulets in Northern Germany. An accidental circumstance brought the Mansfeld St. George's thaler into repute in the Thirty years' war, especially those of 1611 and 1613, bearing the inscription, "With God is counsel and action."

Not only the common soldiers, but many great commanders also had the repute of being invulnerable: not Pappenheim, indeed, who was wounded in almost every action, but Holk, who was supposed at last to have been carried away to hell by the devil in person; Tilly, for whom, after the battle of Breitenfeld, the affrighted surgeon found he had only bruises to dress; Wallenstein and his kinsman Terzka; even the sword of Gustavus Adolphus was considered to be enchanted. Ahaz Willenger also, leader after the death of Fardinger, of the revolted Austrian peasants, was rendered so hard that a cannon-ball at seven paces rebounded from his skin without penetrating it; he was at last killed by an officer of Pappenheim. All the Princes of the house of Savoy were considered invulnerable, even, after the Thirty years' war. Field-Marshal Schauenburg tried it with Prince Thomas when he besieged him in an Italian fortress; the bullets of the best marksmen missed their aim. No one knew whether the members of that noble house had especial grace, because they were of the race of the royal prophet David, or whether the art of rendering themselves invulnerable was hereditary.

There were hardly any who did not believe in the mystic art. The renowned French General Messire Jacques de Puysegur, in the French civil war in 1622, was obliged to compass the death of an opponent, qui avait un caractère, by blows of a strong pole on his neck, because he had no weapon that could kill him; he recounts this circumstance to his King. At the blockade of Magdeburg in 1629, the complaint against these practices became so general, that the parties engaged in this war entered into negotiations concerning it. Gustavus Adolphus, in his first article of war, earnestly forbade idolatry, witchcraft, or the charming of weapons as sins against God.

But the dark powers which the soldier invoked to his aid were treacherous. They did not protect against everything; it was, to say the least, very unsatisfactory that they did not preserve from the hand of the executioner: Zimmermann relates many cases in which the far-reaching hopes of an invulnerable person and his adherents were disappointed at the place of execution. Certain portions of the body, the neck, and the back between the shoulders, the armpits, and the under part of the knee, were considered not hard or invulnerable. The body also was only charmed against the common metals of lead or iron. The simplest weapons of peasants, a wooden club, bullets of more precious metals, and sometimes inherited silver could kill the invulnerable. Thus an Austrian governor of Greifswald, on whom the Swedes had fired more than twenty balls, could only be shot by the inherited silver button that a soldier carried in his pocket. Thus too a witch in Schleswig was changed into a were-wolf, and shot by inherited silver.[^[19]] The magic also could be broken by other mixtures, by cast balls, and by magically consecrated weapons. Rye bread which had been leavened and baked on Easter night, was rubbed crosswise over the edge of the steel, and signs were indelibly impressed on blades and barrels: it was known how to cast balls which killed without injuring the skin, others which must draw blood, and some which broke every invulnerability; these were prepared by mixtures of pulverized grains of corn, antimony, and thunder-stones, and cooled in poison. But these arts were considered supernatural and dangerous. Besides these they tried "natural" devices which might be resorted to with advantage, even by an honourable soldier. They imagined they could prepare gunpowder with a mixture of pounded dogs' bones, which would make no report. Powder was also prepared by which the person shot was only stunned for hours; other powder that did not explode, even when glowing steel was inserted. By a mixture of borax and quicksilver they produced a mining powder by which the enemy's pieces were blown up, in case there was not time to spike them. They sought after the secret of giving a man double strength without magic.

There was a peculiar and also very old kind of magic, which spell-bound the enemy by mystic sentences, which were recited in moments of danger. The adept could fix whole troops of horsemen and infantry: in the same way, by other sentences, they could dissolve the spell. There was still another kind of sorcery; horsemen were made to appear on the field of battle, that is to say, when support was required in imminent danger, deceptive appearance was produced, as if soldiers were approaching in the distance. Both these conjurations are relics of the heathen occult sciences, the echoes of which may still be discovered in manifold tales and traditions, even up to the present day.

The gloomy provost was the man in the regiment who was held in the most awe; he was naturally considered as pre-eminently an adept. In 1618, it was supposed that the executioner of Pilsen could, with the help of an assistant, fire daily three fatal balls against the camp of Mansfeld; after the capture of the city, he was hanged on a special gallows. The provost of the Hatzfeld army of 1636 was still more versed in sorcery: he was killed by the Swedes with an axe, because he was magically hardened. It was very much in the interest of these authorities to keep up amongst the revengeful soldiery the belief in their invulnerability.

We may add to these delusions, the endeavours of individuals to read from the course of the stars the events and issue of the war, and their own fate. Prognostics accumulated, the terrors of the approaching year were unweariedly prophesied from constellations, shooting-stars, comets, and other atmospheric phenomena; the casting of horoscopes was general. Some individuals also possessed second sight, they foresaw to whom the approaching future would be fatal. When in 1636 the Imperial Saxon army was lying before Magdeburg, there was an invalid mathematician in the camp who foretold to his friends that the 26th of June would be fatal to him. He was lying in a closed tent when a lieutenant rode up, and unloosening the tent cords, forced himself in and begged the sick man to draw his nativity. After refusing a long time, the invalid prophesied to him that he would be hanged that very hour. The lieutenant, very indignant that any one should dare to say such a thing to a cavalier, drew his sword and killed the sick man. There immediately arose a great tumult, the murderer then threw himself upon his horse and tried to escape; it happened however, accidentally, that the Elector of Saxony was riding through the camp with General Hatzfeld and a great retinue. The Elector exclaimed, that there would be bad discipline in the Imperial camp if the life of a sick man in bed could not be secured from murderers. The lieutenant was hanged.

Whoever was considered the possessor of such secrets was feared by his comrades, but not esteemed. "For if they were not cowardly, dastardly ninnies, they would not use such charms." Certain officers in the sixteenth century caused every prisoner to be hanged upon whom were found jagged or iron-coated balls, "which were consecrated for the sake of a soul." In the Thirty years' war, a coward begged of his comrade a Passau parchment, who wrote on a strip of paper three times: "Defend yourself, scoundrel," folded it up and made the dastard sew it in his clothes. From that day every one imagined that he was invulnerable, and he went about on all occasions amongst the enemies' weapons, as hard as horn, like a Siegfried, and always came out unwounded.

But the soldier had not only to win the favour of the Fates, but still more the approbation of his comrades. Whoever carefully examines this period, without ceasing to view with horror the numerous and refined atrocities which were practised, will at the same time perceive that this scene of barbarity was occasionally brightened by milder virtues, and sometimes healthy integrity comes to light. A peculiar code of soldier's honour was soon formed, which preserved a kind of morality, though a lax one. We have but few records of the good humour which arose from consciousness of having the mastery over citizen and peasant. But the proverbial modes of speech often bear sufficiently the impress of the same disposition which is idealized in Schiller's "Reiterlied." "The sharp sabre is my field, and booty making is my plough." "The earth is my bed, heaven my canopy, my cloak is my house, and wine my eternal life."[^[20]] "As soon as a soldier is born, three peasants are selected for him; the first provides for him, the second finds him a beautiful wife, and the third goes to hell for him."[^[21]]

We have reason to suppose that sensuality was in general unbridled and shameless; the old German vice, drunkenness, prevailed as much amongst the officers as soldiers. The smoking and chewing tobacco, or as it was then called, "tobacco drinking"--"eating and snuffing," spread rapidly through all the armies, and the guard-room was a disagreeable abode for those who did not smoke. This custom, which at the beginning of the war was introduced into the army by the Dutch and English auxiliaries, was at the end of it so common, that a pipe was to be found in every peasant's house, and nine out of ten of the day labourers and apprentices smoked during their work.

The German language also was jargonized in the army; it soon became the fashion among the soldiers to intermix Italian and French words, and the language was enriched even by Hungarian, Croat, and Czech: they have left us besides their "karbatsche" and similar words, and also sonorous curses. Not only was their discourse garnished with these strong expressions, but gipsy cant became the common property of the army. It did not indeed begin in the great war, for long before, the Landsknechte, as "Gartbrüder" and members of the beggars' guild, had learned their arts and language. But now the camp language was not only a convenient help to secret intercourse with the bad rabble who followed the army, with guild robbers, Jewish dealers and gipsies, but it also gave a certain degree of consideration round the camp fire to be able to bandy mysterious words. Some expressions from the camp language passed among the people, others were carried by runaway students into the drinking-rooms of the universities.[^[22]]

The daily quarrels gave rise amongst the common soldiers also to the cartel, or duels regulated by many points of honour. Duels were strictly forbidden; Gustavus Adolphus punished them with death even among the higher officers; but no law could suppress them. The duellists fought alone, or with two or three seconds, or an umpire was selected: before the combat the seconds vowed to one another and gave their hands upon it, not to help the combatants, either before, in, or after the encounter, nor to revenge them; the duellists shook hands and exchanged forgiveness beforehand, in case of the death of either. They fought on horseback or on foot, with carbines, pistols, or swords; in the fight, a throw in wrestling or unhorsing was sufficient; stabbing was considered un-German, above all a thrust in the back was of doubtful propriety.[^[23]]

As it was so usual to change parties, a corporation feeling was formed amongst the soldiers which also embraced the enemy. The armies had a tolerably accurate knowledge of each other, and not only the character of the upper officers, but of old soldiers was known; any day an old comrade might be seen in the enemy's ranks, or installed as a tent companion to a former adversary. Indeed, quarter was often proffered: but any one who fought against the customs of war, or was suspected of using devilish acts, was to be killed even if he sued for pardon. Cartels were concluded between the courteous conquerors and the vanquished, the conquerors promised to protect, and the prisoners not to escape; the weapons, scarfs, and plumes were taken away from the vanquished; all that he concealed in his clothes belonged to the conqueror, but he who got Dutch quarter, kept what was enclosed in his girdle; a courteous prisoner himself presented what he had in his pockets. If a desperate man did not stand by his conditions of quarter, he was killed, if he did not rapidly escape. During the transport they were coupled by the arm, and the string taken from their hose, so that they were obliged to hold their small-clothes with the hand that was free. The prisoners could be ransomed, and this ransom was fixed by tariff in each army. Towards the conclusion of the war, when soldiers became scarce, the common prisoners were summarily placed in the regiments without giving them a choice. Such soldiers were naturally not to be depended on; they gladly took the first opportunity to desert to their former colours, where they had left their women, children, booty, and arrears of pay. Distinguished prisoners were sometimes bought from the common soldiers by the colonels of their regiments; they were treated with great consideration in the enemy's quarters, and almost every one found there either an acquaintance or a relative.

Booty was the uncertain gain for which the soldier staked his life, and the hope of it kept him steadfast in the most desperate situations. The pay was moderate, the payment insecure; plunder promised them wine, play, a smart mistress, a gold-laced dress with a plume of feathers, one or two horses, and the prospect of greater importance in the company and of advancement. Vanity, love of pleasure, and ambition, developed this longing to a dangerous extent in the army.

The success of a battle was more than once defeated, by the soldiers too soon abandoning themselves to plundering. It often happened that individuals made great booty, but it was almost always dissipated in wild revelry; according to the soldier's adage: "What is won with the drum will be lost with the fifes." The fame of such lucky hits spread through all armies. Sometimes these great gains brought evil results on the fortunate finders.[^[24]] A common soldier of Tilly's army had won great booty at the capture of Magdeburg, it was said to be thirty thousand ducats, and was immediately lost in gambling. Tilly caused him to be hanged after thus accosting him: "With this money you might have lived all your life like a gentleman, but as you have not understood how to make use of it, I cannot see of what use you can be to my Emperor." At the end of the war a man in Königsmark's troop had obtained a similar sum in the suburbs of Prague, and played it away at one sitting. Königsmark wished in like manner to despatch him, but the soldier saved himself by this undaunted answer: "It would be unfair for your Excellence to hang me on account of this loss, as I have hopes of acquiring still greater booty in the city itself." This answer was considered a good omen. In the Bavarian army a soldier in the Holtz infantry was famed for a similar lucky hit. He had been for a long time musketeer, but shortly before the peace had sunk to be a pikeman, and was ill-clad; his shirt hung behind and before out of his hose. This fellow had obtained at the taking of Herbsthausen a barrel filled with French doubloons, so large that he could hardly carry it off. He thereupon absconded secretly from the regiment, dressed himself up like a prince, bought a coach and six beautiful horses, kept many coachmen, lackeys, pages, and valets de chambre in fine liveries, and called himself with dull humour Colonel Lumpus.[^[25]] Then he travelled to Munich, and lived in an inn there splendidly. General Holtz accidentally put up at the same inn, heard much from the landlord of the opulence and qualities of Colonel Lumpus, and could not remember ever having heard this name among the cavaliers of the Roman empire, or among the soldiers of fortune. He therefore commissioned the landlord to invite the stranger to supper. Colonel Lumpus accepted the invitation, and caused to be served up at dessert, in a dish, five hundred new French pistoles and a chain worth a hundred ducats, and said at the same time to the General: "May your Excellence be content with this entertainment and think thereby favourably of me." The General made some resistance, but the liberal colonel pressed it upon him with these words: "The time will soon come when your Excellence will acknowledge that I am wise in making this gift. The donation is not ill applied, for I hope then to receive from your Excellence a favour which will not cost a penny." On this, Holtz, according to the custom of that time, accepted the chain and money with courteous promises to repay it under such circumstances. The General departed, and the fictitious colonel lived on there; when he passed by the guard, and the soldiers presented arms to do him honour, he threw to them a dozen thalers. Six weeks after, his money came to an end. Then he sold his coaches and horses, afterwards his clothes and linen, and spent all in drinking. His servants ran away from him, and at last nothing remained to him but a bad dress and a few pence. Then the landlord, who had made much by him, presented him with fifty thalers for travelling, but the colonel tarried till he had spent it all; again the host gave him ten thalers for travelling expenses, but the persevering reveller answered that if it was money to be spent, he would rather spend it with him than another. When that also was dissipated, the landlord offered him another five thalers, but forbade his servants to let the spendthrift have anything. At last he quitted the inn and went to the next one, where he spent his five thalers in beer. After that he wandered away to his regiment at Heilbronn. There he was immediately confined in irons, and threatened with the gallows, because he had been away so many weeks. He insisted on being taken before his General, presented himself to him, and reminded him of the evening at the inn. To the sharp rebuke of the General he answered that he had all his life wished for nothing so much as to know what were the feelings of a great lord, and for that he had used his booty.

In the Hungarian war it was made a law, that the booty should be equally distributed, but that soon ceased. Still those who were fortunate enough to make great gains, found it advisable to give a share to the officers of their company. This common interest in the booty, as well as the necessity of maintaining themselves by requisition, in remote countries, developed in great perfection partisan service. There were not only whole divisions of troops, which performed in the armies the service of marauding corps, as for example those of Holk and Isolani in the Imperial, but there were also individual leaders of companies, who selected the most expert people for this lucrative employment. A marauding party, departing on a secret expedition, must consist of an uneven number to bring good luck. These parties stole far into the country to plunder a rich man, to fall upon a small city, or intercept transports of goods or money, and to bring away with them cattle and provisions. There was often an agreement made with the enemy's garrisons in the neighbourhood, as to what was to be spared in the districts common to them. Every kind of cunning was practised in such expeditions; they knew now to imitate the report of heavy artillery, by firing a hand-gun, doubly loaded, through an empty barrel; they used shoes with reversed soles, and caused the horses to be shod in the same manner, the feet of stolen cattle were covered with shoes, and a sponge was put in the pigs' food to which a packthread was fastened. The soldiers disguised themselves as peasants or women, and paid spies amongst the citizens and country people of the neighbourhood. Their messengers ran hither and thither with despatches, and were called in camp language "feldtauben" (field doves); they carried these despatches in their ears rolled up as small balls, fastened them in the hair of shaggy dogs, enclosed them in a clod of earth, or sewed them with green silk between the leaves of a branch of oak, that they might be able to throw them away, without suspicion, in time of danger.[^[26]] These despatches were written in gipsy language or gibberish, in foreign characters, and if there were runaway students in the companies, they were written perhaps in French with Greek letters; they employed, for these purpose, a simple kind of short-hand writing, displacing the letters of the words, or agreeing that only the middle letter of the words should have signification.[^[27]] The transition from such partisan service to becoming dishonourable marauders and freebooters was easy. In the beginning of the war, the newly raised regiment of Count Merode was so reduced by long marches and bad nourishment, that it could hardly set its guard; it dissolved almost entirely, on the march, into stragglers, who lay under the hedges and in the byways, or sneaking about the army with defective weapons, and without order. After that time, the stragglers, whom the soldier wits had before called "sausänger" and "immenschneider" (drones), were now denoted as "Merode-ing brothers." After a lost battle their numbers increased enormously. Horsemen who were slightly wounded, and had lost their horses, associated themselves with them, and it was impossible, from the then state of military discipline, to get rid of them.

The most undisciplined, abandoned the route of the army, and lived as highwaymen, footpads, and poachers. Vain were the endeavours of the sovereigns, at the end of the war, to annihilate the great robber bands; they lasted, to a certain extent, up to the beginning of the present century.

Such was the character of the war which raged in Germany for thirty years. An age of blood, murder, and fire, of utter destruction to all property which was movable, and ruin to that which was not; and an age of spiritual and material decay in the nation. The Generals imposed exorbitant contributions, and kept part in their own pockets. The colonels and captains levied charges on the cities and towns in which their troops were quartered, and merciless were the demands on all sides. The princes sent their plate and stud horses as presents to the Generals, and the cities sent sums of money and casks of wine to the captains, and the villages, riding horses and gold lace to the cornets and sergeant-majors, as long as such bribery was possible. When an army was encamped in a district, any landed proprietors of importance, monasteries, and villages, endeavoured to obtain the protection of a "salva guardia." They had to pay dear for this guard, yet had to bear with much unseemly conduct from them. If a place lay between two armies, both parties had to be asked for salva guardia, and both guards lived by agreement in peaceful intercourse at the expense of their host. But it was seldom that either individuals or communities were so fortunate as to be able to preserve even this unsatisfactory protection; for it was necessary for the army to live. When a troop of soldiers entered a village or country town, the soldiers rushed like devils into the houses; wherever the dung-heaps[^[28]] were the largest, there the greatest wealth was to be expected. The object of the tortures to which the inhabitants were subjected, was generally to extort from them their hidden property; they were distinguished by especial names, as the "Swedish fleece," and the "wheel." The plunderers took the flints from the pistols and forced the peasants' thumbs in their place; they rubbed the soles of their feet with salt, and caused goats to lick them; they tied their hands behind their backs; they passed a bodkin threaded with horse-hair through their tongues, and moved it gently up and down; they bound a knotted cord round the forehead and twisted it together behind with a stick; they bound two fingers together, and rubbed a ramrod up and down till the skin and flesh were burnt to the bone; they forced the victims into the oven, lit the straw behind them, and so they were obliged to creep through the flames. Ragamuffins were everywhere to be found who bargained with the soldiers, to betray their own neighbours. And these were not the most horrible torments. What was done to the women and maidens, to the old women and children, must be passed over in silence.

Thus did the army misbehave amongst the people, dishonouring every bed, robbing every house, devastating every field, till they were themselves involved in the general ruin. And the destruction of these thirty years increased progressively. It was the years from 1635 to 1641 which annihilated the last powers of the nation; from that period to the peace, a death-like lassitude pervaded the country; it communicated itself to the armies, and one can easily understand that the bitter misery of the soldiers called for some consideration for the citizens and peasants. The remaining population were once more reduced to despair, as they had to pay the cost, maintenance, and peace subsidies for the standing army. And the army dispersed itself amongst the population.

CHAPTER III.

THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.--THE VILLAGES AND THEIR PASTORS.

Oft have the soldier's sword
And jeering Croat horde,
With usage rude and fierce,
Threaten'd my heart to pierce.
Yet I drew unhurt my breath,
No mishap could bring me death.

In water, 'gainst my will,
Plunged deep, I far'd but ill;
Closed in a wat'ry grave,
God deign'd my life to save;
Wond'rous 'tis I was not drown'd;
Brought to land all safe and sound.

Into my mouth once or more,
As 'twere a tub, they did pour
A mess of liquid dung;
Four churls, cords round me strung;
Yet I drew unhurt my breath,
No mishap could bring me death.

One of an exile band,
There in Thuringia's land
At Notleben, I dwelt,
Till I God's blessing felt,
And to Heubach's parsonage pass'd
Where kind Heaven sent peace at last.

God's servant, here have I
The church kept orderly,
Have preach'd the word therein,
The bad expell'd, of sin
Absolv'd the penitent heart,
And labour'd truth to impart.

From 'Four Christian Hymns of Martin Bötzinger.' (1663.)

Whoever could portray the desolation of the German people, would be able to explain to us the striking peculiarities of the modern German character; the remarkable mixture of fresh youth and hoary wisdom, aspiring enthusiasm, and vacillating caution; but above all, why we, among all the nations of Europe, still strive in vain after much which our neighbours, not more noble by nature, not more strongly organized, not more highly gifted, have long secured to themselves.

The following documents will only furnish an unimportant contribution to such an explanation. Individual examples will render the ruin of the village and city communities comprehensible, and what counteracting power there was, together with the destroying power which supported the remaining vitality, and prevented the final annihilation of the nation.

From these we shall see thoroughly the condition of one particular province, which suffered severely from the miseries of war, but not more than most other parts of Germany, not indeed so much as the Margravate of Brandenburg and many territories of Lower Saxony and Suabia. It is the Thuringian and Franconian side of the "Waldgebirge," which formed, in the middle of Germany, the boundary between the north and south; more especially the present Dukedoms of Gotha and Meiningen. The following details are taken from the church documents and parish records, and many, from the voluminous church and school stories which were published by clerical collectors in the former century.

Germany was supposed to be a rich country in the year 1618. Even the peasants had acquired during the long peace a certain degree of opulence. The number of villages in Franconia and Thuringia was somewhat greater than now; they were not entirely without defences, and were often surrounded by broad ditches and palisades, or clay and stone walls; it was forbidden to form entrances in them, but at the end of the main streets were gates which were closed at night The churchyard was usually defended by particularly strong walls, and more than once it was used as the citadel and last refuge of the inhabitants. There were night and day patroles through the villages and fields. The houses were indeed ill formed and only of wood and clay, often crowded together in narrow village streets, but they were not deficient in comfort and household furniture. The villages were surrounded by orchards, and many fountains poured their clear waters into stone basins. Small poultry fluttered about the dung-heaps in the enclosed courtyards, immense troops of geese fed in the stubble fields, teams of horses stood in the stables, far more numerous than now, probably of a larger and stronger stamp; they were rustic descendants of the old knightly chargers, the pride and joy of their owners; and besides these were the "Kleppers," the small and ancient race of the country. The large parish herds of sheep and cattle grazed on the stony heights and on the rich grass marshes. The wool fetched a high price, and in many places much value was attached to a fine breed; the German cloths were famed, and these were the best articles of export. This national wool, the result of a thousand years of cultivation, was entirely lost to Germany during the war. The district round the village (where the old Franconian divisions of long strips were not maintained) was divided into three fields, which were much subdivided, and each division carefully stoned off. The fields were highly cultivated, and fine grained white wheat was sown in the winter fields. Woad was still zealously cultivated with great advantage in the north of the Rennstiegs. Although even before the war the foreign indigo competed with the indigenous dye, the yearly gain from the woad in Thuringia could be computed at three tons of gold; this was principally in the territory of Erfurt and the Dukedom of Gotha; besides this, anise and saffron produced much money; the cultivation of the teazel also was formerly indigenous, and the wild turnips, and (by the Rhine) the rape seed were sowed in the fellows. Flax was carefully prepared by steeping it in water, and the coloured flowers of the poppies, and the waving panicle of the millet, raised themselves in the corn-fields. But on the declivities of warmer situations in Thuringia and Franconia there were everywhere vineyards, and this old cultivation, which has now almost disappeared in those countries, must in favourable years have produced a very drinkable wine, as now on the lower range of the Waldgebirge; for the wine of particular years is noted in the chronicles as most excellent. Hops also were assiduously cultivated and made good beer. Everywhere they grew fodder, and spurry and horse-beans. The meadows, highly prized, and generally fenced in, were more carefully handled than two hundred years later; the mole-heaps were scattered, and the introduction and maintenance of drains and watercourses was general. Erfurt was already the centre of the great seed traffic, of garden cultivation, also of flowers and fine orchards. On the whole, when we compare one time with the other, the agriculture of 1618 was not inferior to that of 1818. It must be confessed in other respects also, our century has but restored what was lost in 1618.

The burdens which the peasants had to bear both in service and taxes, were not small, and greatest of all on the properties of the nobles; but there were many free villages in that country, and the government of the rulers was less strict than in Southern Franconia or in Hesse. Many ecclesiastical properties had been broken up; many domains, and not a few of the nobles' estates, were farmed by tenants; leases were a favourite method of raising the rent of the ground. All this was for the advantage of the peasant. The damage done by game indeed occasioned great suffering, and there still continued much of the old bond-service on the property of the impoverished nobles. But the greater part of the country people were pronounced by lawyers, newly educated in the Roman law, to be possessors of their property; it was the greatest blessing bestowed by Roman law on the Germans in the sixteenth century. It is an error to suppose that the bureaucratic rule is a production of modern days; it already prevailed in those times, and the villages had often to pay the small travelling expenses of the ducal messenger who brought them their letters. It was already decided by superintending officials how many fire buckets every one was to procure, and how many doves were to be kept; they saw to the clearing of the fruit trees from caterpillars, the cleansing of the ditches, and the annual planting of young trees. The parish accounts had for nearly a hundred years been kept in an orderly manner, and inspected by the government of the country, as also the district certificates and registers of birth. There was also a good deal of commercial intercourse. A large commercial road passed through Thuringia, in a line almost parallel with the mountains, from the Elbe to the Rhine and Maine; and from the descent of the mountains near to the Werra, lay the military road which united the north of Germany with the south. The traffic on these unconstructed roads demanded numerous relays of horses, and brought to the villages gain, and news from the distant world, and many opportunities of spending money.

After the Reformation there were schools, at least in all the villages where there was a church; the teachers were often divines, and sometimes there were schoolmistresses for the girls. Small sums were paid for the schooling, and a portion of the inhabitants of the village were initiated into the secrets of reading and writing. The difference between the countryman and the citizen was then still greater than now. The "stupid peasant" was the favourite object of ridicule in the rooms of the artisans, who attributed to him, as characteristic qualities, roughness, simplicity, disingenuous cunning, drunkenness, and love of fighting. But however retired his life then was, and poor in varied impressions, we should do him great injustice if we considered him essentially weaker or less worthy than he is now; on the contrary, his independence was not less, and was frequently better established. His ignorance of foreign states was undoubtedly greater, for there were as yet no regular gazettes or local papers for him, and he himself generally did not wander farther than to the nearest town, where he sold his products, or occasionally over the mountain when he had to drive cows; or if a Thuringian, to go to the woad market at Erfurt, if a Franconian, perhaps to Bamberg with his hops. Also in dress, language, and songs, he was not fashionable like the citizens; he preferred using old strong words, which they considered coarse; he swore and cursed after the ancient style, and his ceremonial of greeting was different from theirs, though not less precise. But his life was not on that account deficient in spirit, morals, or even in poetry. The German popular songs were still vigorous, and the countryman was the most zealous preserver of them; the peasant's feasts, his domestic life, his lawsuits, his purchases and sales, were rich in old picturesque customs and proverbs. The genuine German pleasure also in beautiful specimens of handicraft, in clean and artistic heir-looms, was then shared alike by the countryman and citizen. His household gear was superior to what it is now. Ornamental spinning-wheels, which still pass for a new invention, neatly carved tables, carved chairs and cupboards, have in some instances been preserved to our times, with the earthenware apostle jugs, and similar drinking-vessels, which may be bought by art collectors. Great were the treasures of the countrywomen in beds, linen, clothes, chains, medals, and other ornaments, and not less worthy of note were the numerous sausages and hams in the chimneys. A great deal of ready money lay concealed in the corners of chests, or carefully buried in pots or other vessels, for the collection of bright coins was an old pleasure to the peasantry; there had been peace as long as they could remember, and woad and hops brought a high price. The peasant had abundance, and was without many wants; he bought lace in the city for his clothes, and silver ornaments for his wife and daughters, spices for his sour wine, and whatever metal utensils and implements were necessary for his farm and kitchen. All the woollen and linen clothes were wove and made up by the women of the house, or the neighbour in the village.

Thus did the peasant live in middle Germany, even after the year 1618. He heard in the ale-houses on Sunday of the war alarms in Bohemia, about which he cared little; he bought indeed a flying-sheet of a crafty dealer, or a satirical song on the outcast King of Bohemia; he gave some of his bread and cheese to a fugitive from Prague or Budweis, who came begging to his door, and shook his head as he listened to his tale of horror. An official messenger brought into the village an order from the sovereign, from which he found it was expected of him to deliver into the city, money and provision for the newly raised soldiers; he was indignant, and hastened to bury his treasures still deeper. It soon, however, became clear that bad times were approaching him also, for the money which he received in the town was very red, and all goods were dear; thus he was involved in the wretched confusion which after 1620 was brought upon the country by the coinage of bad gold. He went no longer to the city, but kept his corn and meat at home: he had constant disputes however with the townsmen and his neighbours, because he wished to rid himself of the new gold in his own payments, whilst he would receive only the good old money: his heart was full of ominous forebodings. Thus it went on till the year 1623. He then saw evil coming in another quarter; theft and burglary increased, foreign vagabonds were often seen on the high-roads, trumpeters rushed into the towns with bad news, hired soldiers, insolent and bragging, drew up before his farm demanding entertainment, stole sausages, and carried off his poultry in their knapsacks. Defensioners, the newly raised country militia, galloped into the village, quartered themselves upon him, demanded provisions, and molested him more than the rogues whom they were to drive away from the cattle-sheds.

At last began--in Thuringia not till after 1623--the passage, of foreign troops through his country, and the great sufferings of the war fell upon him; foreign soldiers of strange appearance, reckless from blood and battle, marched into his village, occupied his house and bed, ill treated him and his, demanded provisions and other contributions besides gifts, and broke, destroyed, or plundered whatever came before their eyes. Thus it went on after 1626, worse and worse every year, troop followed upon troop, more than one army settled itself round him in winter quarters, the requisitions and vexations appeared endless. The yeoman saw with dismay that the foreign soldier had the power of tracing--which he ascribed to sorcery--the treasures which he had concealed deep in the earth; but if he had been too sly for them, his fate was still worse, for he himself was seized, and by torments which it would be painful to describe, compelled to make known the place where his treasure was concealed. On the fate of his wife and daughter we must remain silent; the most horrible was so common, that an exception, was extraordinary. Other sufferings also followed; his daughters, maid-servant, and his little children were not only maltreated, but were in imminent danger of being carried off by persuasion or force, for every army was followed by the coarse, worthless baggage-train of women and children. But the yeoman's homestead was devastated in still other ways; his farming-man had perhaps borne for some years the blows of the foreign soldiers, at last he himself was exposed to them; the team was dragged from the plough, the cattle were fetched from the meadow, and the tillage of the fields thus often rendered impossible. Yet pitiful and helpless as was his position in the beginning of the war, up to the death of Gustavus Adolphus, its horrors were comparatively bearable; for there was as yet a certain system even in plundering and destruction, some degree of discipline kept together the regular armies, and an occasional year passed without any great passage of troops. It is possible for us to discover at this time how many exactions were made on particular parishes, for there were already country authorities who sat in their offices, and after the passage of troops through a parish, demanded the usual liquidation of their loans, the amount of which was indeed seldom returned to them. Whoever will glance over the liquidations in the parish archives, will find the names of ill-famed commanders, whom he may know from history or Schiller's Wallenstein, in very near connection with the history of a Thuringian village.

The effect produced by such a life of insecurity and torment on the souls of the country people, was very sad. Fear, trembling, and dread pervaded and enervated all hearts: their minds had always been full of superstition, now everything was sought for, with impulsive credulity, which could be significant of the attacks of supernatural powers. The most horrible countenances were seen in the heavens, the signs of fearful wickedness were discovered in numerous abortions, ghosts appeared, mysterious sounds were heard on earth and in the heavens. In Ummerstadt for example, in the dukedom of Hildburghausen, white crosses illuminated the heavens when the enemy entered; when they forced their way into the court of chancery, a spirit clothed in white met them and motioned them back, and no one could advance; after their departure, a violent breathing and sighing was heard for eight days in the choir of the church which had been burnt. At Gumpershausen a maid-servant made a great sensation through the whole country; she rejoiced in the visits of a little angel, who appeared, sometimes in a blue, sometimes in a red shirt sitting on the bed or by the table, cried out "Woe," warned against cursing and blasphemy, and predicted horrible bloodshed if men would not give up their vices, their pride, and their stiff blue ruffs,--then a new fashion. When we look at the zealous protocols which were drawn up by the ecclesiastics concerning the half-witted maiden, we find that the only circumstance which was matter of surprise to them, was that the angel did not visit themselves instead of a simple maiden.

Not only terror, but a spirit of defiance and wild despair possessed all souls. A moral recklessness prevailed fearfully among the country people. Wives abandoned their husbands, children their parents; the customs, vices, and maladies of the passing armies left lasting traces, even when the pillagers had quitted the desolated and half-ruined villages. The brandy drinking, which had been introduced among the people since the Peasant war, became a general vice; respect for the property of others disappeared. In the beginning of the war the neighbouring villages were disposed to help one another; if the soldiers had driven away the cattle from one village, and disposed of them again at their next night-quarters, the buyers often returned their new purchase to the former proprietors at the purchase price. This was done in Franconia, by both Catholic and Protestant communities, out of pure kindness. Gradually, however, the country people began to rob and plunder like the soldiers; armed bands combined together, passed the frontiers into other villages, and carried off whatever they needed. They waylaid the stragglers of the regiments in dense woods or mountain passes, and often after a severe struggle took a bloody revenge on the vanquished; indeed, they far surpassed the skill of the soldiers in the contrivance of barbarities; and there were wooded hills, in whose shades the most horrible crimes were now committed by those who had formerly frequented them as peaceful wood-cutters and stone-breakers, singing their simple songs. There arose gradually a terrible hatred betwixt the soldiery and peasantry, which lasted till the end of the war, and caused more than anything else the ruin of the villages of Germany. There were feuds also between the provinces and individual towns; that which is related here was only a harmless one of that gloomy time.

A violent enmity subsisted for many years after the war between the citizens of Eisfeld and the monastery of Banz, on account of the two fine-toned bells of their parish church, the "Banzer" and the "Messe." A Swedish officer had carried off both bells from Banz and sold them to the town. Twice, when the Catholic army was stationed at Eisfeld, the monks had come with waggons and ropes to fetch back their bells, but the first time they fell into a quarrel with a certain Croat who was quartered there, because they wished to take away with them the steeple clock. The Croat rushed upon the pious men with his sword, and he and his comrades ran up the tower and vehemently pulled the bell, so that the monks of Banz could not fetch it down, and were only able to take away the clock with them. The second time they did not succeed better; at last, after the peace, another bell was offered to them as compensation. But when they discovered this sentence upon it: "Preserve us, Lord, by thy word," they returned to their house shaking their heads. At last the pious Duke Ernest arranged the affair; he took for himself as a thank-offering the small bell, and hung it on the Friedenstein in Gotha.

The villages did all in their power to defend themselves from the rapacity of the soldiers. As long as they had money, they endeavoured to buy off the officers who were sent forward to seek for quarters, and many rogues took advantage of their fears, and appearing under the disguise of quartermasters, levied heavy contributions on the deluded villagers. Watchmen were placed on the church towers and elevations of the plain, who gave signals if troops were visible in the distance. Then the countryman brought whatever he could save, and the women and children their movable chattels, hasting to some distant place of concealment. These hiding-places were selected with great sagacity; by a little additional labour they were made still more inaccessible, and for weeks, indeed months, the fugitives passed their anxious existence there. On the dark moor, midst ditches, rushes and elders, in the deep shade of woody glens, in old clay-pits, and amid the ruins of decaying walls, did they seek their last refuge. The countryman in many places still shows with emotion such spots. There is a large vault with an iron door in an old tower at Aspach, whither the Aspachers fled whenever small bands of soldiers approached the village; for a more distant refuge they had a field of many acres, overgrown with thick hornbeam, and there they planted thorns which from the fertility of the soil grew into large trees and became like a thick wall. Within this barricade, which could only be attained by creeping on the belly, the villagers often concealed themselves. After the war the thorns were rooted up, and the land changed into hop, and afterwards cabbage grounds. But a portion of this land is still called the "Schutzdorn," "thorn-defence." When the soldiers had withdrawn, the fugitives returned and repaired with their scanty means what had been laid waste. Often, indeed, they found only a smoking pile.

All however who fled did not return. The more wealthy sought a refuge for themselves and their property in the cities, where martial discipline was a little more rigorous, and the danger less. Many also fled into another country, and if they were threatened by enemies there, again into another; and most of them assuredly had not less misery to suffer there. Those who remained in the country did not all return to their own fields. The wild life in hiding-places and woods, the rough pleasure in deeds of violence and pillage, turned the boldest of them into robbers; provided with rusty weapons, which they had perhaps taken from some dead marauder, they carried on a lawless life under the mountain pines, as companions of wolves and crows, as poachers and highwaymen.

Thus did the population of the plains decrease with frightful rapidity. Even in the time of the King of Sweden many villages were entirely abandoned, the beasts of the woods roamed about among the blackened rafters, and perhaps the tattered figure of some old beldame or cripple might be seen. From that time ruin increased to such an extent, that nothing like it can be found in modern history. To the destructive demons of the sword were added others, not less fearful and still more voracious. The land was little cultivated and the harvest was bad. An unheard-of rise in prices ensued, famine followed, and in the years 1635 and 1636 a pestilence attacked the enfeebled population, more terrible than had raged for more than a century in Germany. It spread its pall slowly over the whole of Germany, over the soldier as well as over the peasant, armies were dissipated under its parching breath, many places lost half their inhabitants, and in some villages in Franconia and Thuringia there remained only a few individuals. The little strength which had remained in one corner of the land was now broken. The war raged on still twelve long years after this time of horror, but it had become weaker, the armies were smaller, the operations without plan or stability, from the want of provisions and animals, but where the fury of war still blazed, it devoured mercilessly what remained of life. The people reached the lowest depths of misfortune; a dull apathetic brooding became general. Of the country people of this last period there is little to be told; they vegetated, reckless and hopeless, but few accounts of them are to be found in village records, parish books, and small chronicles. They had forgotten in the villages the art of writing, nay even their crying grievances. Where an army had carried devastation and famine raged, men and dogs ate of the same corpse, and children were caught and slaughtered. A time had now come when those who had held out during twenty years of suffering, laid violent hands on themselves; we read this in the accounts of ambassadors, who for years worked in vain for peace.

It may be asked how, after such sufferings and utter ruin, the survivors could still form a German nation, who at the conclusion of peace could again cultivate the country, pay taxes, and after vegetating in poverty for a century, again engender energy, enthusiasm, and a new life in art and science. It is certainly probable that the country people would have entirely scattered themselves in roving bands, and that the cities would never have been in a condition to produce a new national life, if three powerful causes had not contributed to preserve the German countryman from being altogether lost,--his love of his paternal acres; the endeavours of the magistracy; and above all, the zeal of those who had the care of his soul, the village pastors. The love of the peasant for his own field, which works inimically against the most benevolent agrarian laws, is even now a strong feeling, but in the seventeenth century was still more powerful. For the peasant knew very little of the world beyond his own village, and it was difficult for him to pass the boundaries which separated him from other vocations, or from establishing himself on the property of other lords. He ever returned with tenacity from his hiding-place to his devastated farm, and endeavoured to collect together the trampled corn, or to sow the few seeds he had been able to preserve. When his last beast had been stolen, he harnessed himself to the plough. He took care not to give his house a habitable appearance; he accustomed himself to dwell amidst dirt and ruins, and concealed the flickering fire of his hearth from the gaze of marauders, who might perhaps be seeking in the night for some warm resting-place. He hid his scanty meal in a place which would disgust even a reckless enemy, in ditches and coffins, and under skulls. Thus he lived under the powerful pressure of habit, however little hope there might be that his labour would prove advantageous to him. If a landed proprietor stood valiantly by his village, even in times of comparative tranquillity, he accompanied his beasts to the fields, armed to the teeth, ready to fight against any robbers who might pounce down on him.

It was no less the interest of the landed proprietor and his officials, than of the peasant himself, to preserve the villages. The smaller the number of tax-payers became, the higher was the tax on the few who remained. The rulers, from the cities in which they resided occupied themselves during the whole war through their officials, bailiffs, and receivers, with the fate of the villages, nay even of individuals. The keeping of the parish records was only interrupted during the most troubled time, and was always recommenced. Certificates, reports, memorials, and rescripts passed hither and thither amidst all the misery.[^[29]] Petitions for remission of rents and liquidation of costs were incessantly demanded, and many a poor schoolmaster obediently gave his service as parish writer whilst the snow floated into his schoolroom through the shattered windows, the parish chests lay broken in the streets, and the parishioners, whose accounts he was writing, went armed into the woods with dark illegal projects, which were never reported to the government. Useless as this system of writing in many cases was, it formed numerous links which bound individuals more closely to their states; and in the pauses of the war, and at the conclusion of it, was of the greatest importance, for it had preserved the mechanism of the administration.

It was however to the country clergy and their holy office that the maintenance of the German people is chiefly owing. Their influence was undoubtedly not less in the Catholic than in the Protestant provinces, though there remain few accounts of it; for the Catholic village pastors were then as averse to writing as the evangelical were fond of it. But the Protestant pastors had a far greater share in the mental cultivation of their time. The Reformers had made the German learned education essentially theological, and the village clergy were, in the estimation of the noble proprietors and peasantry, the representatives of this intelligence. They were generally well skilled in the ancient languages, and expert in writing Latin and elegiac verses. They were powerful disputants, and much experienced in dogmatic controversy, stubborn and positive, and full of zealous indignation against the followers of Schwenkfeld, Theophrast, Rosenkreuz, and Weigelia, and their teaching was more full of hatred to heretics than love towards their fellow-creatures. Their influence on the consciences of the laity had made them arrogant and imperious, and the most gifted among them were more occupied with politics than was good for their characters. If an order may be considered responsible for the imperfection of the mental cultivation of the period, which it has not formed, but only represents, the Lutheran ecclesiastics were deeply and fatally guilty of the devastation of mind, the unpractical weakness, and the dry wearisome formalism which frequently appeared in German life. The ecclesiastics, as an order, were neither accommodating nor especially estimable, and even their morality was narrow-minded and harsh. But all these errors they atoned for in times of poverty, calamity, and persecution, more especially the poor village pastors. They were exposed to the greatest dangers, hated in general by the Imperial soldiers, and obliged by their office to bring themselves under the observation of the enemy; and the rough usage which they, their wives, and daughters had to suffer, fatally injured their consideration in their own parish. They were maintained by the contributions of their parishioners, and were not accustomed, and ill fitted to obtain their daily food by bodily labour; they were the greatest sufferers from any decrease in the wealth, morality, or population of their villages. One must bear witness that a very great number of them endured all these dangers as true servants of Christ. Most of them adhered to their parishes almost to the very last man. Their churches were plundered and burnt, chalice and crucifix stolen, the altar desecrated with disgusting ordures, and the bells torn from the towers and carried away. Then they held divine service in a barn, or an open field, or in the cover of a green wood. When the parishioners had almost perished, so that the voice of the singer was heard no more, and the penitential hymns were no longer intoned by the chanter, they still called the remains of their congregation together at the hour of prayer. They were vigorous and zealous both in giving comfort and in exercising discipline; for the greater the misery of their parishioners, the more reason they had to be dissatisfied with them. Frequently they were the first to suffer from the demoralization of the villagers: theft and insolent wantonness were willingly practised against those whose indignant looks and solemn admonitions had heretofore overawed them. Hence their fate is particularly characteristic of that iron time, and we happily possess numerous records concerning them, frequently in church documents, in which they bemoaned their sufferings, when no one would listen to them. From such records of Thuringian and Franconian village pastors, only a few examples will here be given.

Magister Michael Ludwig was pastor at Sonnenfeld, about 1633; there he preached to his parishioners in the wood under the canopy of heaven; they were called together by the sound of the trumpet, instead of the bell, and it was necessary to place an armed watch whilst he preached; thus he continued for eight years, till his parishioners entirely disappeared. A Swedish officer then appointed him preacher to his regiment; he was afterwards made president of the army consistory at Torstenson, and superintendent at Wismar. Georg Faber preached at Gellershausen, read prayers daily to three or four hearers, always at the risk of his life: he rose every morning at three o'clock and learned his sermon entirely by heart; besides that, he wrote learned treatises upon the books of the Bible.

In the neighbouring towns of the interior, the clergy had as much to undergo. For example, the rector at Eisfeld, about 1635, was Johann Otto, a young man who had just married; he had in the worst times kept the whole school during eight years, with only one teacher, and provided the choir also gratis. The smallness of his income may be seen from the notes which the excellent man has written in his Euclid: "2 days thrashing in autumn, 1 day working in the wood in 1646. 2 days thrashing in January, 1647. 5 days thrashing in February, 1647. 4 marriage letters written. Item, 1/2 day binding oats, and one day reaping," and so on. He persevered, and administered his office honourably for forty-two years. His successor, the great Latin scholar, Johann Schmidt, teacher of the celebrated Cellarius, had become a soldier, and when on guard at the Royal Castle was reading a Greek poet; this was perceived by his officer with astonishment, and was mentioned by him to Ernest the Good, who made him a teacher.

The superintendent at the same place, Andreas Pochmann, was, when an orphan, carried off with two little brothers by the Croats. He escaped with his brothers in the night. Later, when a Latin scholar, he was again taken prisoner by the soldiers, was made an officer's servant, and then a musketeer. But he continued to study in the garrison, and found among his comrades students from Paris and London, with whom he kept up his Latin. Once, when a soldier, he was lying sick by the watch fire, under his sleeve was the powder pouch, with a pound and a half of powder, the flames reached the sleeve and burnt half of it; the powder pouch was unconsumed. When he awoke he found himself alone, the camp was abandoned, and he had not a penny of money. Then he found two thalers in the ashes. With this he struck across to Gotha; on the way, he turned off to Langensalza, to a lonely small house near the walls: an old woman received the wearied man, and laid him on a bed. It was the plague nurse, and the bed was a plague bed, for the malady was then raging in the city; he remained unhurt. His life, like that of most of his cotemporaries, was full of wonderful escapes, sudden changes, and unexpected succour, of deadly perils, penury, and frequent changes of place. These times must be accurately observed, in order to understand how, just at a period when millions were brought to ruin and destruction, there was fostered in the survivors a deep belief in that Divine Providence, which, in a wonderful way, encompassed the lives of men.

From almost every village church one can obtain reminiscences of the sufferings, self-devotion, and perseverance of their pastors. It must be said, that only the strongest minds came out unscathed in such times. The endless insecurity, the want of support, the lawless proceedings of the soldiers and of their own parishioners, made many of them petty in their ideas, cringing and beggarly. We will give one example among many. Johanne Elfflein, pastor at Simau after 1632, was so poor that he was obliged to work as a day labourer, to cut wood in the forest, to dig and to sow; twice he received either alms from the poor-box at Coburg, or what was placed there at the baptism of children. At last the consistory at Coburg sold one of the chalices of the church to procure bread for him. He considered it an especial piece of good fortune, when he had once to perform the funeral of a distinguished noble, for then he got a good old rix-dollar, and a quarter of corn. When shortly afterwards he confidentially complained to a neighbour of his want of food, and the latter replied with desperate resolution, he knew well what he should do in such a case, then, firm in faith, Magister Elfflein said, "My God will provide means that I shall not die of hunger; He will cause a rich nobleman to die, that I may obtain money, and a quarter of corn." He considered it was ordained by Providence, when soon after, this melancholy event actually occurred. His situation was so pitiable, that even the rapacious soldiers, when they sent their lads in the neighbourhood after booty, emphatically ordered them to leave the pastor at Simau unmolested, as the poor simpleton had nothing for himself. At last he got another parish.

At the source of the Itz, where the mountains decline in high terraces towards the Main, lies the old village of Stelzen, a holy place even in heathen times. Close to the church, from the corner of a spacious cavern, overshadowed by primeval beech and lime trees, springs up a miraculous well; near the well, before the Reformation, stood a chapel to the Holy Virgin, and many a time did hundreds of counts and noblemen, with numberless other people, flock together there as pilgrims. The village was entirely burnt down at Michaelmas, 1632, only the church, the school, and shepherd's hut remained standing. The pastor, Nicholas Schubert, wrote to the authorities in the winter as follows: "I have saved nothing but my eight poor, little, naked, hungry children. I continue to dwell ex mandato in the very old, and on account of the want of a chimney, a floor and so forth, dangerous school-house, where I can neither attend to my studies, nor do anything for my support. For I have neither food nor clothes, longe enim plura deficiunt. Given at my castle of misery, Stelzen, 1633. Your willing servant, and obedient poor burnt-out pastor, Nicholas Schubert." Shortly he was removed. His successor likewise was pillaged, and stabbed in the left hip with a rapier; he too was removed; a second successor also was unable to maintain himself there. After that, the parsonage house was uninhabited for fifteen years, but the neighbouring pastor, Götz of Sachsendorf, came every third Sunday, and performed service in the ruined village. For two years there came no pence to the church coffers. At last, in 1647, the church was entirely burned to the bare walls.

Gregory Ewald was pastor at Königsberg; in 1632, Tilly burnt down the city, and Ewald was taken prisoner in a vineyard by two Croats, and robbed; when they could not withdraw a gold ring from his finger they prepared to cut off the finger, but at last had so much consideration that they took only the skin with the ring, and demanded a thousand dollars ransom. Ewald released himself by this stratagem; he took the simple soldier, who was left with him to fetch the ransom, first to the door of a cellar in order to give him a drink of wine, and under the pretext of fetching the key he escaped. In his great necessity he took an appointment as Swedish army chaplain, and after the battle of Nördlingen, lived as an exile for a year in a foreign country, from thence he returned to his ruined parish, where for some years he and his family endured want and misery.

Among the most instructive of the biographical accounts of Protestant pastors, is that of the Franconian pastor, Martin Bötzinger. We see with horror, both the village life in the time of the war, and the demoralization of the inhabitants, distinctly portrayed in his narrative. Bötzinger was not a man of great character, and the lamentable lot he had to bear did not strengthen it; indeed, we can hardly deny him the predicate of a right miserable devil. Nevertheless he possessed two qualities which render him estimable to us, an indestructible energy with which there was not the slightest frivolity united; and that determined German contentment which takes the brightest view of the most desolate situations. He was a poet. His German verses are thoroughly pitiful, as may be seen by the specimen heading this chapter, but they served him as elegant begging letters by which, in the worst times, he endeavoured to procure sympathy. He celebrated all the officials and receivers of the parish of Heldburg in an epic poem, as also the melancholy condition of Coburg, where he tarried for a certain time as a fugitive.

Of the career which he noted down, the beginning and the last portion were already torn out when Krauss, in 1730, incorporated it in his history of the Hildburghaus church, school, and province. The following is faithfully transcribed from this fragment; only the series of events which are intermingled in his autobiography are here arranged according to years. Bötzinger was a collegian at Coburg and a student at Jena, during the Kipper time;[^[30]] and in 1626, he became pastor at Poppenhausen. In the spring of 1627, the young pastor entertained the idea of marrying the only daughter of Michael Böhme, burgher and counsellor at Heldburg, whose name was Ursula.

"In the year 1627, on the Tuesday after the Jubilate, all necessary preparations being made, on this very day, a body of eight thousand men, people from Saxe Lauenburg, together with the Prince himself, encamped before Heldburg; pitched their camp on the cropped ground, and in eight days ruined the city and land belonging to the corporation, so that neither calf nor lamb, beer nor wine, could any more be procured. Provisions were brought from all the neighbouring districts, and yet even the royal officers and officials could hardly be maintained. They were, on account of the cold, quartered some days in the city and villages. It was then, for the first time, I was plundered in the parsonage house at Poppenhausen, for not only had I not secured anything, but rather had I made preparation as if I had to lodge an honourable guest or officer; I lost my linen, bedding, shirts, and so forth, for I did not yet know that the soldiers were robbers, and took everything away with them. The prince of the country, Duke Casimir, was himself obliged to journey to Heldburg; he ordered for the Lauenburger a princely banquet; he presented him with fine horses and eight thousand thalers if he would only take himself away. After this misfortune, the blessing of God made itself miraculously visible everywhere. Owing to the thousands of huts, quarters and fires, which made the fields look like a wilderness, it was thought that the winter seed was lost in the ground. Nevertheless, there grew from these burnt huts and ditches so thick a crop, that in the same year, there was a superfluity of winter food. A miracle! Thus my wedding could take place on the Tuesday after the Exaudi, and was celebrated at the Town Hall.

"For five years there was rest in the land till 1632, except that several Imperial corps, consisting of two, three, or more regiments, passed to and fro, who often took up their quarters in the township of Heldburg, and exhausted it. I wanted for nothing at Poppenhausen. I could wish that I was now as well off as I was before the war. As, however, the fury of war at last arrived, the neighbouring bishops began to reform vigorously; sent Jesuits and monks with diplomas into the country, and examined the ecclesiastical benefices and monasteries. The princes had their militia here and there, who now and then pilfered in the neighbouring Papal states, and stirred up the hornets there. Every intelligent person could discover that things would become worse. The noblemen also fled with their pastors, bailiffs, and all belonging to them, to our little towns and villages, hoping for greater security there than in their own places.

"In 1631, at Michaelmas, King Gustavus came from Sweden suddenly through the wood, just as if he had wings. He took Königshofen and many other places, and went on very flourishingly. Our nobles enlisted people for the king, who were as bad as the enemy in pilfering and robbing. They more especially took from the neighbouring Catholics their cows, horses, pigs, and sheep; then was there a great sale; a ducat for one cow, and a thaler for a pig. The Papists often came hither and saw how and who bought their cattle, and frequently redeemed them themselves. They were however so often taken, that they wearied of redeeming them, and it went ill with the poor neighbouring Papists. We all at Poppenhausen preserved for those in the neighbourhood, their bits of property in churches and houses, as far as we could. But when in the year 1632, the tables were turned, and the three Generals, the Friedlander, Tilly, and the Bavarian prince, took possession of Coburg and the country, the neighbouring Papists helped to rob and burn, and we found no faith or safety with them.

"When on the eve of Michaelmas, all the guns were heard from Coburg, as a signal that the enemy was approaching, and every one took care of himself, I went with all those whom I had lodged for some weeks, to Heldburg, where I had previously sent my wife and child. The town was on its guard, but did not imagine what evil would betide it; the burgomaster and some of the councillors ran away, my father-in-law of blessed memory, having the charge of the powder, lead, and linstocks, which he served out to the guard as need required, was obliged to remain in the town. I had a great desire to leave the town with my wife and children, but he would not let me go, and still less his daughter, and bade us remain at home; he had a tolerable purse of thalers with which he intended to make off in case of disaster. But before midday on the feast of St. Michael, fourteen horsemen presented themselves; they were supposed to be Duke Bernhard's people, but it was very far from the case. These they were obliged to admit without thanks for it. They were soon followed by some infantry, who from the beginning searched about everywhere, and knocked down and shot whoever resisted them. In the middle of the market, one of these fourteen struck my father-in-law with a pistol on the head, so that he fell down like an ox. The horseman dismounted, and searched his hosen, and our citizens who were at the Town Hall saw that the thief drew out from thence a large mass of money. When the stupefaction from the blow had passed away, my father-in-law stood up: he was made to go to the Star Inn, where they found somewhat to eat, but nothing to drink; then he said he would go home and bring some drink. Now as they thought he might escape them, they took the platters and food with them, and accompanied him to his house. It was not long before one of them demanded money; and when he excused himself, the scoundrel stabbed him with his own bread-knife in the presence of his wife and mine, so that he sank to the ground. 'God help us!' screamed out my wife and child. I, who was hid in the bath-house, in the straw over the stable, sprang down and ventured amongst them. The wonder was that they did not catch me in the parson's cap. I took my father-in-law, who was reeling about like a drunken man, into the bath-room, that he might be bandaged. I was obliged to look on whilst they took off from your mother[^[31]] her shoes and clothes, and laid hold of you, my son Michael, in their arms; hereupon they quitted the house and the street. I went from the little court of the bath-house to my father-in-law's room; I carried over there pillows and mattresses, whereon we laid him. I had to venture still further. I went into the cellar, wherein his brother, Herr George Böhm, pastor at Lindenau, had placed in three large butts, two tons of good wine. I wished to fetch a refreshing drink for my father-in-law, but the vent peg was so carefully and firmly driven into the butt that although I pulled out the spigot nothing would flow. I was obliged to stay a long time, at great risk, before I could get a spoonful. I had hardly gone over there, before a scoundrel went into the bath-house, threw the invalid off the bed, and searched everywhere. I had crept under the sweating bench, where indeed I got a good sweating, for the day before had been the bath day.

"As there was now a great butchery and shooting down in the town, so that no one was secure, divers citizens came at intervals to have themselves bandaged. Then my father-in-law consented that I should seek for a hiding-place and leave the town, but would not let my wife and children accompany me. So I went to the castle garden, and ascended the height behind the castle, that I might look out towards Holzhausen and Gellershausen, to see if it was safe. Then the citizens and their wives came to me for comfort and to journey with me. Thus I crossed over the Hundshanger lake into the wood, and wished to go up to Strauchhahn. When we came to the common, eight horsemen, who were Croats, rode up the heights. As soon as they saw us they hastily galloped up to us. Two citizens, Kührlein and Brehme, escaped; I had most to endure. They took off my shoes, stockings, and hosen, and left me only my cap. With my hosen I had to give up my purse full of money, which I had hid there three hours before, and thus had preserved from the first pilferers. The danger was so urgent that I did not think of my purse till I saw it for the last time. They demanded first a thousand thalers, then five hundred, and lastly a hundred, for my life. I had to go with them to their quarters, and to run with them a whole hour barefoot. At last they perceived that I was a pap or pfaff, which I also confessed; then they began to thrust at me with their sabres without discretion, and I held my hands and arms towards them, and through God's protection only got a few wounds on the wrist.

"Meanwhile they discovered a peasant who had hidden himself in some bushes. It was the rich Kaspar of Gellershausen, so they all rode off to him, and only one remained with me, who was by birth a Swede, and had been made prisoner. This one said to me, 'Priest, priest, run, run, otherwise you must die.' He was a good Swede: I placed confidence in his counsel, and begged of him to feign to ride after me, as if he would fetch me back. Thus it happened that I escaped the Croats. But the rich Kaspar met a miserable death at that place; for as he would not come forth from thence, they hewed off his legs, as I saw, at the knees. Therefore he was obliged to lie in that place, where after their withdrawal he was found. But I ran through a great oak wood for almost an hour, and could see no thick bushes wherein to conceal myself, and fell at last into a pool of water out of which an oak root had grown, and I was so tired of running that I could go no further, and my heart beat so that I knew not whether it was the horses' hoofs that I heard, or my heart.

"Thus I sat till it was night; then I rose up and continued in search of a thick cover, till I came out and could see Seidenstadt. I slipped into the village, and as I heard dogs bark, I hoped to find people at home, but there was no one; I therefore went into a shed, and was desirous of passing the night on the hay. But God granted that the neighbours, who had hid themselves in Strauchhahn, had come together behind this shed, and took counsel where they should reassemble, and where they should go to. This I could distinctly hear. I therefore descended and went to the house. The peasant had just come in, had struck a light, and was standing in the cellar taking the cream off the milk, which he intended to drink. I was standing above the opening, spoke to him and greeted him; he looked up and saw the under part of my body, namely, my shirt and naked legs, and it was dark above. He was much frightened; but when I told him that I was the pastor at Poppenhausen, who had been carried off by the soldiers, he brought the milk up, and I begged him to procure me some clothes of his neighbours, as I wished to accompany them wherever they were going. He went out, and meanwhile I regaled myself on his pot of milk, and entirely emptied it. In my whole life no milk had ever tasted so good. He came back with others, and one of them brought me a pair of old leather hosen, which smelt badly of cart-grease, another a pair of old latchet shoes, and another two woollen stockings, one green and one white. This livery was not suitable either for a traveller or for a pastor; yet I took it with thanks, but could not wear the shoes, for they were frozen too stiff. The soles of the stockings were torn, thus I went to Hildburghausen more barefooted than shod. When we looked around us we saw that many places in Itzgrund were in flames. At that time, Ummerstadt, Rodach, Eisfeld, and Heldburg were burnt to the ground.

"I was, on my arrival, such a spectacle as to create terror and fear at Hildburghausen; no one--though many thousand strangers had come there--felt secure, although the city had a strong guard. My only anxiety was to get a respectable dress, stockings, shoes, &c., before we departed from thence. I went, therefore, barefoot to the burgomaster, Paul Walz, and to the curate, and begged them to give me something to clothe me respectably. Herr Walz gave me an old hat which was almost an ell in height, which disfigured me more than anything else; nevertheless I put it on. Herr Schnetters Eidam, now curate at Römhild, gave me a pair of hosen, which came over my knees, these were still good, Herr Dressel a pair of black stockings, and the sexton a pair of shoes. Thus I was rigged out, so that I could appear without being ashamed before so many thousand strangers, who had sought security in the town; and could show myself amongst the citizens. But the hat disfigured me very much, therefore I sought an opportunity to obtain another. Now it came to pass that the whole ministry, the authorities of the high school and councillors, had agreed, without the knowledge of the citizens generally, that they would have the gates opened at nine o'clock at night, and go away with their wives and children: having learned this, I went to the lodging of the town-clerk, where the gentlemen were all assembled; but no one knew or noticed me. I placed myself alone by a table in the dark; there I discovered that a good respectable hat was hanging on a nail. I thought that if this should remain hanging on the breaking up of the assembly, it would suit me. What matter; all would be ruined after the flight. What I wished and thought came to pass: then there began a wailing and leave-taking on their departure, and I laid my head on the table as if I were asleep. Now when almost every one was gone, I hung the long stork on the wall, made the exchange, and went with the other gentlemen into the street.

"The arrangements for flight now became known to the people. Countless numbers therefore sat with their packages in the streets; horses were put also to many waggons and carts, all prepared to go out of the gate with those who were departing. When we came into the open country we saw that the good people were all dispersed about the streets. There were thousands of lighted torches to be seen, some had lanterns, some burning wisps of straw, others links. In short some thousands came mournfully out. I and my flock came about midnight to Themar, the townspeople there rose up and joined us, so that some hundreds more were added to us. The march proceeded to Schwarzig and Steinbach, and when towards morning we arrived at a village, the people were so terrified that they abandoned their houses and farms and accompanied us. When we had been about an hour at an inn, the news came that the Croats had fallen upon Themar this very morning, had cut up the escort and plundered the carrier's goods; had split the burgomaster's head, robbed the church, and carried the organ pipes off to the market; and it was high time for us to have evacuated it. Hildburghausen had afterwards to ransom itself by a large sum of money and its chalices, otherwise the town would like all the others have been reduced to ashes. During this wandering I got also a present of a pair of gloves, a knife, and a sheath.

"This lasted five or six days, then came the news announcing that the enemy had departed from Coburg. Now I could not remain any longer. I went speedily to Römhild, where lived my honoured godfather Cremer, the town clerk. I had to report to the worthy magistrate what had happened to me. This little town alone remained unplundered. The worthy magistrate had ordered the enemy to be fired upon, and by his foresight God preserved this little town. Meanwhile Römhild became full of refugees, who were partly known and partly unknown. But I did not then care for any society; so I set off for Heldburg, and passing many hundred men, arrived there first, just when the slain were being brought on carts to the burial-ground. When I perceived this I went to the burial-ground, and found seventeen persons lying in one grave, among them were three councillors, one my father-in-law, the precentor, some citizens, a tutor, the country beadle, and town constable. They were all horribly disfigured. After this I went to my mother-in-law's house; I found her so ill and so disfigured from being broken on the wheel, and pinched with pistol screws, that she could hardly speak to me; she made up her mind that she should die. So she desired me to seek my wife and children whom the enemy had carried away with them. The children were you, Michael, a year and a half, and your eldest sister, five years old. I would gladly have eaten something at Heldburg, but there was nothing either to eat or drink. I speeded therefore hungry and terrified to Poppenhausen, not only to refresh myself there, but to procure a messenger who would seek and recover my wife and children. But I learnt there that the Poppenhausen children had also been carried away, and that there were marching columns on many roads, so that the life of a messenger would be in deadly peril. Meanwhile my parishioners dressed a cow for me, which had escaped the soldiers; this I looked for with a hungry stomach. So we had meat enough to eat, but without salt and bread. After my repast I learned by post that my wife was come, and thus it had come to pass. She had been taken with her two children, by some musketeers, to Altenhausen, where, from fear of dishonour, she and her children had sprung over the bridge into the water. From thence she was drawn out by the soldiers, and brought into the village, where she was made to help in the kitchen to prepare the supper. Meanwhile there came another troop of soldiers who were higher in rank and more in number, and drove the others from their quarters. My wife took this opportunity to escape. She wended her way out, and left the two children with the soldiers. A poor beggar-woman led her through secret byways out of the village, and brought her to an old cave in a wood, where she passed that night and remained the next day till evening. On that day the people came forth from all quarters, and thus my wife set out and came safe and unharmed to me, so that we were all joyful and thankful to God.

"How murder and fire meanwhile had gone on at Heldburg, I will also relate. The town of Heldburg had militia and trained bands, and it was ordered that if the enemy came there, the city should be defended. For it was always hoped that Duke Bernhard's people were not far distant, and that the country would be relieved. When therefore the town was fired, my honoured father-in-law, with many citizens and other folks, hastened out of the town, and arrived in the night with my wife and two children to Poppenhausen, and my wife prepared him a good invalid bed. For my parsonage house had been filled with all kinds of furniture left by noblemen and magistrates in their flight; and although pilferers had been there, there was enough still left. The following day a whole troop of horsemen came to the parsonage, examined my belongings, but let them alone because there was one there who was wounded: they ordered supper and went out to plunder, and returned towards evening, bringing all kinds of booty; then it was necessary to boil and roast, and the neighbouring women helped thereto with good will. When the horsemen were about to depart, they advised my father-in-law not to be too confident, as this tumult would last yet eight days, and as the road led past there, he and his daughter might suffer violence, and as the neighbouring villages were Popish, he had better remove to a Protestant one. This my father-in-law did, and went at night in the fog for security to Gleichmuthrusen; but the ungodly neighbours screamed out that the horsemen wished to burn and slay the Lutherans, but they did it for their advantage, as the Papists had gone with the troopers into our villages and houses and stolen as much as others. Then my father-in-law did not like to remain there any longer, he went with his belongings to Einöder wood and remained there day and night. He occasionally went forth to examine the road between Heldburg and Einöder. When therefore one day he saw no one especial on the road, either travelling or riding, and heard the little bell which was wont to be sounded when children were baptized, he thought, such being the case, he might creep nearer the town, and see whether there was any hindrance along the road. As soon as he came to the town his steps were watched. Then a whole body of camp followers came and took him, my mother-in-law, and my wife to the house of Herr Göckel. Ah! there was banqueting and revelling! Being now urged to give money and making various excuses, they singed and smeared his eyes, beard, and mouth with tallow candles, and endeavoured shamelessly to maltreat my wife in the room before every one, but she screamed so that her mother sprang violently into the room and drew her out through the door, which indeed was fastened, but the under panel had been ingeniously covered with list, and was fractured. Then the cook had compassion upon her, and brought her out of the house; and when my wife gave him some ducats, which she had for a whole week concealed in the cuff of her sleeve, he brought to her my father-in-law, who however was horribly disfigured. Thus they left the town more dead than alive, and being too weak to go further, went into the hospital. Not only the poor sick folk were there, but many respectable citizens and women in hopes of finding it a safe asylum. But it was far from being the case. Although my father-in-law was lying on a bed nearly dying, and every one saw that he was bleeding and had been evil treated, yet he was dragged hither and thither, some wicked people having betrayed that he was a rich man. They broke him on the wheel; they brought my wife and children prisoners into the town, where they had to make shirts for the soldiers. As she was sitting in the churchyard, one of them brought her a piece of linen to cut out, he said to one of his comrades: 'Go and make sure that the peasant, meaning my father-in-law, is dead.' He went, and returned again soon, having in his arms my father-in-law's hosen and waistcoat, and said to my wife, 'Your father is done for.' What barbarity! When the pilferers had sufficiently pillaged the church of clothes and linen, they left the town, and would carry my wife with them whether she would or no.

"Not long after they received their reward at Leipzig and Lützen, as may be read in other places. After this every one returned home, and people found each other again; but the sheep and cattle were all gone. I did not preserve more than three calves out of eight, without counting my forty-eight sheep which, with the whole herd, had been lost.

"Duke Johann Casimir died in the year 1633, and was buried, on the same day on which the funeral sermon was preached for Gustavus King of Sweden, in that country. At that time great robbing and plundering went on, amongst others by Duke Bernhard's soldiers, nine regiments of which were stationed at Itzgrund, to enable the princely corpse to be buried in safety.

"In 1634 things became much worse, and one could well perceive that in a short time everything would be topsy-turvy. I therefore removed what I could to the parsonage at Steltzen, my beds, two cows, clothes, &c. But this being in the autumn, after Lamboy had quartered himself with every one and everywhere, my winter quarters cost me more than five hundred gulden in thirty-five weeks, which I had to settle with Captain Krebs. I had eleven persons in my house, not counting camp-followers and maid-servants. It is not to be described what I and my wife had to suffer and endure for a length of time. At last I could no longer feel secure on account of them; I ran away sick and came to Mitwitz and Mupperg, where I had as little rest as at Heldburg. My stepmother especially tormented me (she had been struck by lightning), she would not let me remain in my exile with my old father. I was obliged to go to Neistadt to the rector, M. Val. Hoffmann, now superintendent. But I was not only very poor; but became daily more ailing, therefore I only thought how I could return to Poppenhausen or Heldburg and die there, for I was weary of my life.

"It is miraculous how I passed along the roads and through the villages in the darkness of night, for it was still unsafe everywhere; at last I reached Poppenhausen. There my poor parishioners and schoolmaster were as joyful at sight of me, as if our Lord God had himself appeared among them. But we were all in such great weakness and want, that we looked more dead than alive. Many died of hunger; and we were frequently, each day, obliged to take to our heels and conceal ourselves. And although we hid our lentils, corn, and poor food in the ditches and old coffins, nay, under the skulls of the dead, yet all was taken away from us.

"Then were the survivors obliged to leave house and home, or die of hunger. At Poppenhausen most of the inhabitants were in their graves; there remained only eight or nine souls, who fled from it in the year 1636. The same circumstances occurred at Lindenau, the cure of which was committed to me vicariously in 1636, by the Royal Consistory. I could obtain no income; apples, pears, cabbage, turnips, &c., were my only pay. Thus I was pastor at Lindenau from 1636 to 1641. I had the parsonage arranged, but could not, on account of the insecurity and turmoil, dwell constantly there, and performed the duties from Heldburg. I have still the testimony of the Lindenauers, wherein they acknowledge that I did not in five years get ten gulden in money; but they have since honestly paid me the arrears in wood and apples.

"In the year 1640, between Easter and Whitsuntide, the Imperial and Swedish armies fought a battle at Saalfeld; and Franconia and Thuringia were devastated far and wide. At four o'clock in the morning of the Sunday before Whitsunday, strong bodies of Imperialists fell upon Heldburg, when most of the citizens were still resting in their beds. My whole street, in every direction, was full of the turmoil of horses and riders; just as if some one had taken pains to show them my house. I and my wife were taken prisoners five times in one hour; when I was released from one, I was taken by another. Then I took them into my room and cellar, that they might themselves seek what they required. At last they went off, leaving me alone in the house; yet my terror and anguish were so great that I never thought of my ready money, which I might have saved ten times over, if I had had sufficient confidence to take it with me. But all the houses and streets were full of horsemen; and if I had taken my Mammon with me, it might so have happened that I should have been caught. But in my dismay I thought not of money. Many men and women were convoyed out of the town by an escort of Hasisch horsemen, who had been quartered there. I then returned to my wife and children; we betook ourselves to the nearest wood towards Hellingen; there old and young, ecclesiastics and laymen, remained day and night. Our chief sustenance was black juniper berries. Now certain of the citizens ventured into the town, and brought back with them food and other things that they required. I thought, ah! if thou also couldst go to thy house and get hold of thy small cash in pence, and therewith support thyself and thy children! I ventured it, slipped in, and went through the Spittel Gate to the Mühl Gate, which was closed in with palisades. Within, there were some who caught me by surprise, as a cat does a mouse; they bound me with new cords so that I could neither help myself with hands or feet, and must either give money, or betray rich people to them. The thieves obliged me to toss the fodder for their horses at the Herrnhof, to lead them to drink, and other odd work. Then imagining myself more at liberty, I ran from thence, being unaware that a whole troop of soldiers were standing at the gate of the courtyard, so I ran into their arms. They beat me well with their swords and bandoliers, kept me still more strictly with cords, led me from house to house, that I might tell them to whom this or the other house belonged. Thus I was also led to my own house, there I saw the copper water-can lying on the floor, in which had been placed my ready money, three hundred thalers, and I thought, hadst thou known that the birds and the foxes were in the way, thou wouldst have remained outside. Now because I would not betray any one, they put upon my head my own cap, which was lying on the ground in my house, and gave me a blow on the head with a cutlass, so that the blood ran down to my ears, but no hole was made in the cap, for it was of felt. Still more; the same man wantonly drew the cutlass across my stomach, in order to try whether I was invulnerable; he pressed tolerably hard, yet God willed not that he should draw more blood from me. Twice in one hour, namely, in Schneiderinn, at the farm of the tailor's wife Wittich, on the dung-heap, and in the forest ranger's stable, they gave me the Swedish drink mixed with dung water, whereby my teeth became all loose. I defended myself as well as a prisoner could, when they forced a great stick into my mouth. At last they led me along with cords, and said they would hang me up: they brought me out to the Mühl Gate on the bridge; then one of them took the cord wherewith my feet were bound together, and another the cord on my left arm, and pitched me into the water, holding the cord so that they might draw me up and down. Now whilst I was groping around me in search of a support, I caught hold of a hay-rake, which however gave way with me, and I could find no help thereon; but by God's providence an opening was made for me, so that I slipped under the bridge. Whenever I tried to hold on, they battered me with these said hay-rakes, so that they snapped in two like a school cane. When they were not only weary of their labour, but thought they had done for me, as I should drown in the water, they let go both cords, when I dived under the bridge like a frog, and no one could touch me. Then I searched the pocket of my hosen and found a little knife, such as could be closed, which they had not chosen to take, though they had often searched me; I therefore cut the cord which bound my two feet, and sprang down to the floor of the mill, where lay the wheels. The water covered half my body; then the rogues threw sticks, brickbats, and cudgels at me, in order to put an end to me completely. I was anxious to work my way to the miller's back door, but could not, either because my clothes being saturated with water held me back, or more likely, because God would not permit me to die there. For as a drunken man reels to and fro, thus did I, and came up on the other side at the back of the brewery. When they perceived that I was about to get into the narrow lane, they all ran into the town, collected more companions, and watched at the tan-house to see whether I would come thither. But as I perceived this, and was now left to myself, I remained lying in the water, and placed my head under a thick willow bush, and rested in the water four or five hours, till it was night and the town quiet; then I crept out half dead, and could hardly breathe, on account of the blows I had had. I went down to the tan-house and found that there was as yet no safety, as there was one there cutting grass, and another picking hides out of the tan-pits, and I almost stumbled upon them, so I was obliged to hide there till late in the night; I went then over the conduit, always following the course of the stream, and climbed over a willow stem by which I reached the other side, towards Poppenhausen.

"When I came to the Poppenhausen or Einöder road, it was strewed here and there with linen, which the soldiers had thrown away or lost, but I could not stoop to pick anything up. I came at last to Poppenhausen, and found no one at home but Claus Hön, whose wife was lying-in; he was obliged to cut the clothes from off my body, for I was swollen, and he put aside the wet clothes to be dried. He also lent me a shirt, and then examined my head, which was of all colours from the blows I had received; afterwards my back and arms became quite black and blue. The following day my parishioner bade me go away, for he feared they might lie in wait for me, and that he should get into trouble on my account. So with his assistance I put on my wet clothes, and went quite slowly to Lindenau, always through the densest thicket, and kept on the other side in the Lindenau garden, from which I could see the village. At last I discovered some people going into a house; I went thither, but they would not admit me, for they were too much afraid, but finally, when they saw through the window that it was I, their pastor, who had come, they admitted me, and I remained with them some days; for there was quartered there one who was a Lindenauer, which helped a little. But I met with a new misfortune. When those who were quartered here went to the castle of Einöd with the Lindenauers, to fetch away what could yet be found of their goods, the magistrate, the smith, and I were keeping guard the while on the tower; as we were all three performing this duty, certain horsemen came into the village, they saw us on the tower, went straight up to it, and found us there together. As they ascended the stairs we discovered from their blustering and talking that they were troopers, so, in bad plight as I was, I endeavoured, alas! to climb. I clambered up into the belfry and curled myself like a cat behind the clock; but one of the thieves climbed up at the same time and found me. My parishioners said I was their schoolmaster, and entreated for me, as I had already been badly beaten by the soldiers. It was however of no avail. They insisted on this schoolmaster descending. The magistrate went first, after him a trooper, the smith followed, then another trooper, and lastly I followed, lingering. Now when they all came out through the door of the church, I remained within, bolted the little door, and ran out of the other, and crept into a turnip pit. God help me! How woeful it was for me to be obliged to stoop and lie on all-fours for a whole hour! Thus I was saved, but my dear fellow-watchers were taken to a mill and obliged to fill the flour sacks.

"On the Friday before Whitsuntide I came with many citizens to Coburg. A thief had carried off my shoes, and left me a pair of old bad ones instead; I had nothing else to wear for almost a week, and both soles had fallen out, and when it became necessary to take to one's heels, the shoes turned round hindforemost, so that often I could not help laughing outright. Thus I came to Coburg. The news of my torments had reached Coburg some days before, together with the report that I had been killed; when therefore I came myself, the citizens and my old acquaintance were much astonished. Dr. Kesler, general superintendent, item, consul Körner, invited me several times during the Whitsuntide festival, and for a whole month the Coburgers showed great kindness to me, my wife, and children, which I lauded in print on St. John's day.

"Ah, how great was the grief and misery to be seen and heard in all the surrounding small towns at that time! the inhabitants of Eisfeldt, Heldburg, and Neustadt, together with the villagers, had to make shift miserably in the town. Asking and begging was no shame. Yet I did not wish to burden too much my good host, Herr Hoffman the apothecary. I went out into the wide world with the pastor of Walburg, Eisentraut, for three weeks, victum quærendi gratia, to Culmbach, Bayreuth, Hirschheid, Altorf, and Nuremberg, and again back to Coburg. I then found that my wife had returned to Poppenhausen, accompanied again by the Hasische trooper, but there was nothing to eat or reap there. What God had provided me with on my journey, I was obliged to carry to the town hall and give to the soldiers, and the children were well-nigh dying of hunger. They had not been able to buy bran enough for bread. My superintendent, Herr Grams, died from the effects of the Swedish drink, at the castle four or five weeks after this turbulent time.

"Now as exactions and extortions still continued, I could get no stipend, and yet had to assist in the superintendence of the parish of Heldburg, as well as my own, I went cum testimonio et consilio of Dr. Kesler, and also with letters of recommendation to Duke Albert, to Eisenach, and represented my poverty in divers ways to the Consistory. I got a presentment and other recommendations to their Princely Highnesses, the two brothers, that I might obtain advancement in their dominions. So I went from Eisenach to Gotha, just as our honoured prince and lord, Duke Ernest, fixed his residence at the Kaufhaus: for I was present when they paid him homage at Gotha. The royal Consistory soon offered to me the parish of Notleben; but as the Notlebers were at strife with their old pastor, and there was to be a month's delay to carry on their contest, Dr. Glass persuaded me in the interim to go with my recommendation to Weimar, and to collect somewhat for my poor family. My wanderings, however, lasted till the year 1641. I returned on Tuesday the 18th of January to Gotha, and found the cure of that parish still vacant for me, which I undertook with the greatest humility and thankfulness, and preached my first sermon on the parable of the vineyard, from the 20th of Matthew. But I not only lived in great insecurity at Notleben, as one had daily to think of flight, but had also many disputes with the peasantry, who in church and school affairs had always a hankering after Erfurt, and to whom all royal ordinances with respect to the catechism were odious. I, the pastor, had to bear this from the council and peasants, and as all the stipend was paid in kind, and I was neither a tutor, nor had any other means whereby I could get on well, I humbly sought for a change of cure. When, therefore, our honoured lord, after the division of property, obtained the parish of Erock and the village of Heubach, he offered to me to become pastor there, which I had expected more than a year before. Thus in 1647, I in all humility accepted this removal, and preached my trial sermon on Judica Sunday, in the presence of the parishioners and commissaries. I received the call on the following day, and thus under God's providence brought hither my wife and child. This was my fourth piece of church preferment, where for my own part I desire, God willing, to live and die; but my wife wishes herself away, in a better place in the plains, on account of the difficulty of getting servants. I leave it in the hands of God and my superiors."

Thus far extends what is preserved of Bötzinger's biography. He finally found rest at Heubach, and administered his office there for six-and-twenty years. He died in 1673, at the age of seventy-four, after having led for forty-seven years a life which cannot be designated as peaceful. Heubach was a new parish which had been formed at Gotha by Duke Ernest the Good, and Bötzinger was the first pastor. He was obliged to dwell in the royal shooting lodge, which had been built by Duke Casimir in the forest, for grouse shooting. In the neighbouring forester's house lived an insolent forester; the country was in a wild state, little inhabited, and the people, corrupted by the war, led a lawless forest life. It appears that the new pastor was not particularly welcome to these denizens of the woods, the forester especially was his vehement opponent, and the pastor secretly complained, in Latin distiches which he inscribed in the church records, to his successor, of the bitter sufferings which this servant of the woods occasioned him. He in a brotherly way warned his successor against the wickedness of the man and his bad wife. But in spite of this contention, it may be concluded that this long-tormented sufferer was not altogether unhappy, and a harmless self-contemplation is to be perceived in his Latin verses. When at last he died, laudatory poems by some of his noted clerical brothers were written, as was then the custom; some of them are extant both in Latin and German. Even Herr Andreas Bachmann, the court preacher at Gotha, a distinguished man, yielded a tribute of respect to his "Dear old, now deceased clerical brother;" it begins with the following verses, which will conclude this chapter:--

Martin Bötzinger, God's servant, faithful and true,

Upright as Job--was long time pastor I ween;

A much tormented man with crosses not a few,

As will, in the record of his life, be seen.

CHAPTER IV.

THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.--THE CLIPPERS OF MONEY, AND PUBLIC OPINION.

Monotonously did the death wail sound in the chronicles and records of fellow-sufferers. Where thousands were saved, millions were ruined and destroyed. The war was destructive of house, wealth, and life, alike in town and country. Manifold was the work of the destroying forces, but a higher force was unceasingly at work to ward off final ruin.

It is a marvellous circumstance, that in the same year in which the war in Germany expired, the interest of the people in public affairs was so far developed as to originate the first newspapers. In matters of faith, moral feeling and the judgments of individuals had for a century worked, but in politics it was only rarely and feebly that serious diversity of opinion was ventured to be expressed by private individuals. It was just when the recruiting drums of the princes were beating at every muster-place that public opinion began its first political struggle in the press. On an important social question, the intellectual leaders of the people rose up against the immorality of their own Sovereigns. We shall endeavour here briefly to exhibit the course of public opinion, and show what was stirred up and carried away by it during the war. It may more especially be discovered in the literature of the flying-sheets, which contended for and against the Bohemian King, condemned the Kipper and Wipper, and did homage to the great Gustavus Adolphus, but at last became itself, like the nation, meagre and powerless.

It was after the beginning of the sixteenth century that the people began to receive news through the press, in a double form. One of these forms was a single sheet printed on one side, almost always ornamented with a woodcut, and after the sixteenth century, with a copper-plate engraving, under which the explanatory text was generally rendered in verse. In these flying leaves were communicated the appearances in the heavens, and comets; very soon also battles by land and sea, portraitures of the celebrities of the day, and the like. Much of the good humour, and coarse jests of the Reformation time are to be found in them. The art of the wood carver was in constant activity, and we find many characteristic peculiarities of the talents of the great painters impressed upon it. The other form was that of pamphlets, especially in quarto, frequently also ornamented with woodcuts. They gave information of every novelty; coronations, battles, and newly discovered countries; by them every striking event flitted through the country. After the Reformation, they increased enormously in number. All printing-houses gave birth to them under the titles of newspapers, advices, reports, and couriers. Besides these, there were the small controversial writings of the Reformers, sermons, discourses, and songs. Very soon also the Princes began to make use of the invention of printing, to inform the public of their quarrels, and to gain partisans. Private individuals whose rights were injured contended with their opponents, whether city magistrates or foreign rulers, in pamphlets. During the whole of the sixteenth century the aim of the small, not theological, literature, was first to impart news, and afterwards to serve the interests of individuals or princes, or to make known the views of those in power. The opinions of individuals upon political affairs were principally conveyed in a form which was then considered particularly ingenious, as pasquinades or dialogues. These small news sheets were innumerable, and their spread was rapid; after the Reformation it became a separate branch of industry. The booksellers, or as they were then called, stationers, who offered these newspapers for sale in their shops and stalls, and introduced them to the markets of foreign cities, made a dangerous competition with the printers, bookbinders, and illuminators. Important newspapers were everywhere pirated. Along the great trade and post roads, more particularly of the Rhine and southern Germany, certain trading and printing establishments made special gains from the communication of the daily news; for example, Wendelin Borsch, at the Tiler's Hut in Nuremberg, about 1571, Michael Enzinger at Cologne, at the end of the century, and others. These sheets at first were published very irregularly, but they already contained a correspondence from different cities, in which not only political, but mercantile intelligence was given.[^[32]] At last, in 1612, appeared here and there separate newspaper sheets in numbers, and in a certain degree of continuity. Meanwhile it had been long the custom of the merchants to make such communications to their mercantile friends with some regularity, so that there already existed news-writers who were in the habit of forwarding written newspapers. This method of spreading intelligence had come to Germany from Italy. In Venice, from the year 1536, there were Notizie Scritte, written news in successive series, which continued there till the French Revolution. There also, appeared the first regular newspaper shortly before 1600, which it is stated took the name of Gazzetta from a little coin which was the cost of the single numbers.

Soon after, the German newspapers began to appear regularly. In 1615 the first weekly newspaper was published at Frankfort-on-the-Maine, by Egenolf Emmel, bookseller and printer. In opposition to which, in 1616, the Imperial deputy postmaster Johann van der Brighden, published a competing paper called 'Political Notices.' From these two undertakings resulted the oldest German newspapers, the 'Frankfort Journal,' and the 'Oberpostamts Zeitung.'

But these and other weekly papers were for a long time, only news sheets in which opinions on the facts communicated were carefully withheld. The great stream of public opinion still continued for two centuries to run in the old direction; the flying leaves and occasional brochures.

At the beginning of the war even the distant readers were compelled to be violent partisans. Everywhere appeared controversial writings, opinions, councils, and deliberations. The nation was rent into large parties by this intellectual strife, and it is instructive to see how the writings of the disputants stand in exact relation to the success which their party had achieved. Till the battle of the Weissen Berge nine tenths of all the narratives and controversial writings are Protestant; they reached full a thousand in number. Hatred to the Jesuits blazed fiercely; bitter was the rancour against the Emperor, and incessant were the cautions against the League. After Prague, Strasburg was the centre of their warlike activity. Whilst at Prague the libel-writer von Rörig, as Huss-redivius, made his voice heard vehemently in many 'Political Discourses' against his adversary Sturm: the magisters of Strasburg, after the fashion of Boccalini, made accusations against the same opponent, before Apollo and the high court of Parnassus; but their Apollo had to deliver human and explicit oracles. The answers in defence are cautious and uncertain, as during the whole war the Catholic party were generally not a match for the Protestants in the serious warfare of the pen. But the speedy flight of the new King of Bohemia suddenly changed the physiognomy of the literary market. The secret writings obtained as booty from the Bohemian party were published by their opponents; and about these bulky quartos there raged for years a battle of petty flying-sheets. Revengeful, and joyfully triumphant, the Imperialists sounded their pæan. It is true that in their brochures there was still some moderation, for they were obliged to spare the Lutheran Saxons; but so much the more irritably did they attack the enemy, in countless pictorial sheets and satirical verses. Endless and merciless were the satires on the fugitive winter King, he, the proud and witless one, with his wife and children, were depicted in every kind of pitiful situation, seeking their bread, departing in bad waggons, and digging a grave for themselves.

This strife was interrupted by another, which will ever be of high interest. It was the storm of the German press against the "Kipper and Wipper."

Of all the terrors at the beginning of the war, nothing gave such vague apprehension to the people, as the sudden depreciation of the coinage. To the fancy of the suffering generation, the evil became so much the greater, as in the gloomy frame of mind of that period it appeared to occur suddenly, and everywhere roused the most frightful passions, discord in families, and hatred and strife between debtors and creditors, leaving behind, hunger, poverty, beggary, and immorality. It made honourable citizens gamblers, drunkards, and profligates, it drove preachers and schoolmasters from their offices, brought opulent families to beggary, plunged every government into miserable confusion, and threatened the dwellers in cities, in a thickly populated country, with famine.

It was the third year of the war; its flames had already carried destruction over Bohemia and the Palatinate, and the ruins were still glowing, on which the Imperial troops erected the cross of the old faith. A sultry atmosphere loured over the country; throughout the empire, in every class, men armed themselves, and anxiety for the future pervaded all. But intercourse with the provinces in which the war was at first located, was then comparatively small. The countries exposed to its fury were, with the exception of the Palatinate, provinces belonging to the Emperor; and on the Elbe and lower Rhine, in Thuringia, Franconia, and the territories of lower Saxony, it was still a question whether the danger was approaching home. In August, 1621, the peasant had the prospect of a moderate harvest; in trade and commerce there was some degree of stagnation, but there was much of that excited eagerness which is the natural offspring of a great defensive movement, and manly youths were more allured than intimidated by the wild conduct of the soldiery. It had indeed been long remarked, that there was something unusual about the money which circulated in the country. The good heavy Imperial coin became more and more scarce, in its place much new money was current, badly coined, and of a red colour. The increasing rise in the price of foreign goods appeared still more strange. Everything became dearer. Whoever wished to make a present to a godchild, or to pay foreign tradesmen, had to give an increasing agio for his old pure Joachim's thaler. But in the local trade, betwixt town and country, the extensive new coinage was taken without hesitation, indeed it was exchanged or bartered with an increased activity. The mass of the people did not observe that the different kinds of coin with which it was the custom to pay, became in their hands, worthless lead; but the sharper ones, who had an inkling of the state of things, became, for the most part, accomplices in the dishonest usury of the Princes. It may be distinctly perceived how the people came to a knowledge of their situation, and we still feel dismayed at the sudden terror, anguish, and despair of the masses, and are struck by the anxieties and manly indignation of the thoughtful; and in reading the old narratives, we still feel somewhat of the indignation with which the guilty were regarded. When we consider the many wonderful errors of public opinion at that time, and the well-meaning zeal of individuals who gave good counsel, we may be permitted in this period of calamity and humiliation, to feel a proud satisfaction at the sagacity with which even then, some men of the people discovered the ground of the evil, and, in one of the most difficult national questions, found the right answer, and by it a remedy, at least for the worst misfortunes. Before we attempt to give a picture of the "Kipper and Wipper" years, we must make some remarks on the coining of that period.

In the olden time, all technical dexterity was environed with dignity, secrecy, and an apparatus of forms. Nothing is more characteristic of the peculiarity of the German nature, than its virtuosoship; even the most monotonous handicraft was ennobled by an abundance of lively additions. As soon as the spirit of the artisan was excited by the genial pleasure of creating, his imagination was occupied with images and symbols, and he turned his skill dexterously to high, nay even to holy things. What we have described as applicable to all the handicrafts of the middle ages, was so especially to the art of coining. A feeling of his self-importance was strong in the coiner; the work itself, the handling of the precious metals fresh from the fire, was considered ennobling. The obscure chemical processes, which were surrounded, through alchemy, with a wilderness of fantastic forms, had a far more imposing effect upon the workers, than can be understood by the rational fabricators of our century. To this was added the responsibility of the service. When the coiner took the assay weight out of its beautiful capsule, and placed the little acorn cup on the artistically worked assay balance, in order to weigh the remnant in it, he did this with a certain consciousness of superiority over his fellow-citizens.[^[33]] When he purified the silver assay from lead in the cupel, and the liquid silver first overflowed, shining with delicate prismatic colours, and then, the variegated stream being rent, the bright gleam of the silver passed like lightning through the molten mass, this silver gleam filled him with reverential astonishment, and he felt himself in the midst of the mysterious creations of the spirits of nature, which, whilst he feared, he was yet able to control by the art of his handicraft, as far as his knowledge reached. After that period, in the order of things, the coiners formed themselves into a close corporation, with masters, associates, and apprentices, and held jealously to their privileges. Whoever was desirous of stamping the Holy Roman Imperial coin was first obliged to give proof of his free and honourable lineage, to do lowly service for four years, during this period to wear, according to custom, a fool's cap, and to allow himself to be punished and beaten when inexpert or in the wrong; then at last he was admitted to the business of coining, and entered as an associate in the brotherhood of Imperial coiners.

But these strict regulations, which were again confirmed to the brotherhood by the Emperor Maximilian II., in 1571, had even then ceased to have the effect of making the corporation honourable and upright. Equally inefficient were the attempts at control, by the decisions of the Imperial Diet and the Sovereigns. At the inspection of every piece of coin the master of the mint had with him a warden, who proved the texture and weight of the coin. The ten Circles of the Empire held yearly approbation days, in order, mutually, to compare their coin and to reject the bad; every Circle was to be represented by a warden-general; for every Circle an appointed number of mints were established, in which the lesser rulers were to have their money specially coined: but all these regulations were only imperfectly carried out.

There were undoubtedly some Sovereigns and mint-masters then in the country who were faithful, but they were few in number; and generally a mint-master, who was considered capable by a German Circle, and worked in a legal mint, was concerned in many strange practices. It was difficult to exercise control over these imperfect coining proceedings; the temptations were great, and morality in general much lower than now. From the Sovereign down to the understrapper and Jewish purveyor, every one concerned in coining deceived the other. The Sovereign allowed the master of the mint for a series of years to work and become rich; he perhaps permitted in silence the coin of the country to be debased, in order at the right moment to proceed against the guilty, from whom then he squeezed out by pressure, like a sponge, all that they had sucked up for many years drop by drop. It did not avail them that they had long quitted the service, for after many years greedy justice would reach them: but the mint-master, who was not in the convenient position of the lion, to be able to secure his booty by a single stroke of the paw, was in the habit of industriously overreaching his masters, the purveyors, nay even his cashiers, the associates, and the apprentices, not to mention the public. The other assistants did no better; every man's hand was against the other, and the curse, which according to the proverb lies on the gold of the German dwarf, appears in the seventeenth century to have depraved all who transmuted the shining metal into money. The common method of transacting the business was as follows.

The master of the mint purchased the metal, defrayed the costs of the stamping, and paid a tax to the Sovereign for every Cologne mark which he struck, which it appears amounted generally to about four good groschen: but he had to pay dear for fine silver, and the wages and other accessories were continually rising in price. If he paid the tax, from one to two thousand marks, weekly to the lord of the mint, he concealed from him the fifty marks which he had struck over and above, and retained the tax upon them for himself; furthermore, he was a sharp coiner, that is to say, he deducted from the money about half a grain in the amount of silver required by the law; he always struck a hundred marks in weight, two ounces too light, which was remarked by no one, and when he knew that the money was to be sent directly into foreign countries, especially to Poland, he was bolder in deducting from the weight. His dealings with the purveyors who procured the metal for him, were not more upright. There was carried on then, throughout the whole of Germany, a secret traffic, which was severely prohibited by the law, and traced with much sagacity by the gate-keepers of the cities, a traffic in false money. What was acquired by the soldier as booty, or stolen by the thief from the church, was smelted by the receivers of stolen goods into flat cakes or conical masses, which in the language of the trade were called "ingots" and "kings;" whatever was clipped from the money in diminishing the proper quantity of silver, or had otherwise to be carefully consigned under a false name, was poured out of the smelting crucible over moist birchen-twigs, and thus granulated: but besides this, by being incessantly bought up, the good coin was exchanged for bad, the small money-changers, most of them wandering Jews, journeyed from village to village far across the frontiers of the German Empire, and collected, as the ragmen do now, their wares from the soldiers, countrymen, and beggars. All the medals of distinguished persons, all coats-of-arms and inscriptions, horse and man, wolves, sheep and bears, thalers and hellers, the saints of Cologne and Treves, and the medallions of the heretic Luther, were bought up for the mint, collected and exchanged. The concealed wares were then packed into a vessel with ginger, pepper, and tartar, and paid toll duty as white lead, wrapped up in bales of cloth and frankincense. There were travelling waggons with false bottoms, which were specially prepared for such transports. A still better safeguard was an ecclesiastic as a travelling companion; but the best of all was a trumpeter, who gave the trader the appearance of being a prince's courier. If it happened that a distinguished lord was travelling towards the same country, it was expedient to bribe him, for he and his suite, their waggons and horses, were never examined at the city gates. Sometimes the agent disguised himself as a distinguished lord or soldier, and caused the burden to be conveyed by the trooper's horses or his servants. Sometimes the mint-master was obliged to travel to the frontier to meet the agent, under the pretext of paying a visit to some friend. Then the costly goods were carried far from the dwellings of men, across lonely heaths, or through the clearings of a wood, from one hand to another, on a merchant's parole.

Meanwhile the petty Jewish dealer carried at night, along byways over the frontier, his wallet full of old groschen, in the twofold fear of robbers and of the guardians of the law. The wallet, the broad-brimmed hat, and the yellow cloth border to the coat, the mark of a Jew of the Empire, was frequently seen at the mint. There existed between the dealer and the mint-master a confidential business connection, certainly not without a mental reservation; for it occasionally happened to the Jew that false thalers were found in one of the hundred marks which he delivered in thalers, or that the wallet together with the coin had become moist during the journey, which added some half-ounces to their weight, or that fine white sand became mingled with the granulated silver, and was weighed with it. For this the mint-master indemnified himself, by hanging the scales so that one side of the beam was shorter than the other, by causing the scales to spring up and descend slowly, notwithstanding the perpendicular position of the balance, in order to make the wares some half-ounces lighter, or by falsifying the weights altogether. What the masters did not do, the apprentices of the mint ventured upon. However cautious the purveyor might be during the smelting assay, they understood how to mix copper dust with the silver already weighed, in order to make the assay worse than it really was. Such was the state of the traffic even at those mints where there was still some respect for the law.

Besides the licensed coiners, there were others in most of the ten Circles, of easier conscience and bolder practice; not exactly false coiners in our sense of the term, although this was carried on with great recklessness; but nobles and corporations who had the right of coining, and prized it highly as a source of income; for, contrary to the Imperial decrees, which imposed upon them the duty of having their money coined in one of the approved mints of the Circle, they coined actively in their own territory. Sometimes they let their right of coining for a year's rent, nay, they even disposed of their mints to other princes as a speculation. These irregular coining places were called hedge mints, and in them a systematic corruption of money took place. No inquiry was made as to the right of the coiners; whoever knew how to manage fire and metal, engaged in this kind of work. There was little regard for the prescribed fineness of texture, and weight of the money; it was coined with false stamps, and the head of the ruler, with the date of a better period, were stamped on light coin; nay, in regular false coining, the stamps of foreign mints were often counterfeited. The brightness of the new coin was removed by tartar or lead water; and all this took place under the protection of the Sovereign. The disposal of the money thus coined required all the cunning and circumspection of the agents, and a line of industry was in this way formed, which we may presume occupied many intermediate hands. Thundering decrees had been fulminated for seventy years at the Imperial Diets and Assemblages of the circles, against the hedge mints, but without success. Indeed, after the introduction of good Imperial money, they became more numerous and active, for the work paid better.

Such was the state of things even before the year 1618. The sovereigns, small and great, required more and more money. Then some of the Princes of the Empire--the Brunswickers, alas! were among the first--began to outdo the proceedings of the most notorious of the hedge mints; they caused the coin of the country, both heavy and light, to be struck of a bad mixture of silver and copper, instead of silver, and soon it was only copper silvered. At last, as for example at Leipzig, a small angular coin was issued by the city, no longer of copper, which was of higher value, but of pure tin. This discovery of making money at little cost spread like a pestilence. From both of the Circles of Saxony it spread to those of the Rhine and Southern Germany. Hundreds of new mints were established. Wherever a ruined tower appeared firm enough for a forge and bellows, wherever there was abundance of wood for burning, and a road to bring good money to the mint and carry away bad, there a band of coiners nestled. Electors and nobles, ecclesiastical communities and cities outvied each other in making copper money; even the people were infected with it. For a century the art of making gold, and treasure digging had occupied the fancies of the people; now the happy time appeared to have arrived, when every fish-kettle could be turned into silver in the coiners' scales. A mania for money-making began. Pure silver and old silver gilt became continually and strikingly dearer in mercantile traffic, so that at last it was necessary to pay four, five or more new gulden for one old silver gulden, and the price of goods and the necessaries of life slowly rose; but that signified little to the multitude, so long as the new money, the production of which seemed to increase without end, was willingly taken. The nation, already excited, became at last madly intoxicated. Every one thought they had the opportunity of becoming rich without labour; all applied themselves to trafficking in money. The merchant had money dealings with the artisan, the artisan with the peasant. A general craving, chaffering, and overreaching prevailed. The modern swindling in funds and on 'Change, gives only a weak notion of the proceedings of that time. Whoever had debts hastened to pay them; whoever could get money from an accommodating coiner, in exchange for an old brewing vessel,[^[34]] could buy therewith house and fields; whoever had to pay wages, salaries, or fees, found it convenient to do so in plated copper. There was little work done in the cities, and only for very high pay. Whoever had any old thalers, gold gulden, or other good Imperial money lying in their chests as a store in case of need, as was then the case with almost every one, drew out his treasure and was delighted to exchange it for new money, as the old thalers, in a most remarkable way, appeared to be worth four, nay even six and ten times as much as formerly. That was a jolly time. If wine and beer were dearer than usual, they were not so in the same proportion as the old silver money. Part of the gains were jovially spent in the public-house. Every one was disposed to give, in those times. The Saxon cities readily agreed, at the Diet at Torgau, to a great addition to the land tax, as money was to be obtained everywhere in superfluity. People also were very ready to contract debts, for money was offered everywhere, and business could be done with it on favourable conditions; great obligations therefore were undertaken on all sides. Thus a powerful stream carried away the people to destruction.

But a counter stream arose, first gentle, then continually stronger. Those were first to complain who had to live on a fixed income, the parish priests most loudly, the schoolmasters and poor misanthropes most bitterly. Those who had formerly lived respectably on two hundred gulden, good Imperial coin, now only received two hundred light gulden, and if, as often undoubtedly happened, the salary of some were raised about a quarter in amount, they could not even with this addition defray half, nay even the fourth part, of the necessary expenses. Upon this unprecedented occasion the ecclesiastics referred to the Bible, and found there an indisputable objection to all hedge minting, and began to preach from their pulpits against light money. The schoolmasters starved in the villages as long as they could, then ran away and increased the train of vagabonds, beggars, and soldiers; the servants next became discontented. The wages, which averaged ten gulden a year, hardly sufficed to pay for their shoes. In every house there were quarrels between them and their masters and mistresses. Men and maid-servants ran away, the men enlisted and the maids endeavoured to set up for themselves. Meanwhile the youths dispersed from the schools and universities, few parents among the citizens being sufficiently well off to be able to support their sons entirely during the period of education. There were however a multitude of scholarships founded by benevolent people for poor students. The value of these now suddenly vanished, the credit of the poor scholars in foreign towns was soon exhausted, many found it impossible to maintain themselves; they sank under poverty and the temptations of that bloody period. We may still read in the autobiographies of many respectable theologians, what distress they then suffered. One supported life in Vienna, by cutting daily his master's tallies for a four-penny loaf; another was able to earn eighteen batz[^[35]] in the week, by giving lessons, the whole of which he was obliged to spend on dry bread.

There was increasing discontent. First among the capitalists who lived on the interest of the money which they had lent, which was then in middle Germany five, or occasionally six, per cent. For a time they were much envied as wealthy people, but now their receipts were often hardly sufficient to maintain life. They had lent thousands of good Imperial thalers, and now a creditor would pay them on the nail a thousand thalers in new money. They demanded back their good old money; they squabbled and laid their complaints before the courts; but the money which they had received back bore the image of the Sovereign and the old mark of value; it was legally stamped money, and the debtor could in justice allege that he had received similar money, both as interest and capital and for labour. Thus there arose numberless lawsuits; and the lawyers were in great perplexity. At last the cities and even the Sovereigns were embarrassed. They had willingly issued the new money, and many of them had coined it recklessly. But now for all their taxes and imposts they obtained only bad money, a hundred pounds of plated copper instead of a hundred pounds of silver, at the same time everything had become dear, even to them, and a portion of their expenses had to be paid in good silver. Then the governments attempted to assist themselves by new frauds. First they endeavoured to retain the good money by compulsion; now they suddenly lowered the value of their own money, and again threatened punishment and compulsion to all who gave less value for it. But the false money still continued to sink under the regulated value. Then some governments refused to take for the payment of taxes and imposts, the money of their own country which they themselves had coined. They declined taking back what they had stamped in the last year. Now for the first time the people discovered the whole danger of their position. A general storm broke loose against the new money; it sank even in daily traffic to a tenth of its nominal value. The new hedge mints were cried down as nests of the devil; the mint-masters and their agents, the money-changers, and whoever else dealt in money concerns, were the general objects of detestation. Then it was that they obtained in Germany the popular names of Kipper and Wipper. These are Lower Saxon words: kippen comes equally from the fraudulent weighing, as from the clipping of the money; and wippen from throwing the heavy money out of the scales.[^[36]] Satirical songs were sung about them; it was supposed that their names were heard in the call of the quail, and the mob cried out after them "kippe di wipp," as they did "hep" after the Jews. In many places the people combined together and stormed their dwellings. For many a year after the terrors of the long war, it was considered a disgrace to have acquired money in the Kipper-time. Everywhere disorders and tumults arose; the bakers would no longer bake, and their shops were destroyed; the butchers would no longer slaughter, on account of the prescribed tax; the miners, soldiers, and students raged about in a state of wild uproar; the city communities, deep in debt, became bankrupt, as for example the wealthy Leipzig. The old joints of the burgher societies cracked and threatened to burst asunder. The small literature urged on and excited the temper of the public mind, and was itself still further excited by the increasing discontent. The street songs began it, and the pictorial flying-sheets followed. The Kippers were unweariedly portrayed with the flames of hell round their heads, their feet standing on an insecure ball, surrounded by numerous gloomy emblems, amongst which the cord and the lurking raven were not absent; or in their mints collecting and carrying off money, and in contrast to them the poor, begging; the different classes were depicted, soldiers, citizens, widows and orphans, paying to the money-changers their hard earnings; the jaws of hell appeared open, and the changers were assiduously shoved down by devils; all this was adorned, according to the taste of the times, with allegorical figures and Latin devices, made comprehensible to every one by indignant couplets in German.

As among the people, so also among the educated, a fierce storm began to rage. The parish priests were loud in their invectives and denunciations, not only from the pulpit but also in flying-sheets. A brochure literature began, which swelled up like a sea. One of the first that was written against the new money was by W. Andreas Lampe, pastor at Halle. In a powerful treatise, 'On the last brood and fruit of the devil, Leipzig, 1621,' he proved, by numerous citations from the Old and New Testament, that all trades and professions in the world, even that of an executioner, were by divine ordinance; but the Kipper was of the devil, whereupon he characterizes in some cutting passages the mischief which they had caused. He had to suffer severe trials, and though he loyally spared the authorities, yet he was threatened with proceedings, so that he found it necessary to obtain from the sheriffs' court at Halle a justification. He was soon followed by many of his clerical brethren. The controversial writings of these ecclesiastics appear to us clumsy productions; but it is well to examine them with attention, for the Protestant priesthood are always representatives of the cultivation and the rectitude of the people.

The preachers exorcised the evil one, and the theological faculty soon followed with the heavy artillery of their Latin arguments, and how bitter was the priestly anger, was shown for example by the consistory of Wittemberg, when they refused the Lord's Supper and honourable burial to the Kippers. Lastly we have the lawyers with their questions, informations, detailed opinions on coining and recapitulations. The answers which they gave in thick brochures were almost always very diffuse, and their arguments frequently subtile; still they were necessary, for the disputes concerning meum and tuum between creditor and debtor appeared interminable, and numberless lawsuits threatened to prolong insupportably the sufferings of the people. The principal subjects of investigation were, whether those who had lent good money were to be repaid capital and interest in light money; and again, whether those who had lent light money had a claim for the repayment of the full capital in good money. It must be remarked here that, in many cases which the law and the acuteness of lawyers did not reach, the dispute was ended by that true feeling of equity which was inherent in the people. For when the governments were generally bad, and legal justice was very costly and difficult to be obtained, much had to be accomplished by the practical sense of individuals. A little flying leaf, in which is related how the sound common sense of the village magistrate administered justice, was certainly not less useful than a massive half-Latin, half-German "Informatio."

In the flood of paper, which gives us information concerning the excitement of that period, there are certain sheets which more especially arrest our attention--the utterances of educated and experienced men, who know how to tell shortly and effectively in a popular form, from whence it all arose. Some of these flying-sheets, written at different periods of the Thirty years' war, have been preserved to us, in which we may even now behold with admiration, both energy of character, power of language, and genuine statesmanlike discernment. In vain do we inquire for the name of the author. We will only mention here one of these writings. Its title is, 'Expurgatio, or Vindication of the poor Kipper and Wipper, given by Kniphardum Wipperium, 1622. Fragfurt.'

The author has chosen the valiant Lampe as the object of his attack, as the cautious zeal of the Saxon ecclesiastic whose distinguished colleagues were accused of being Wippers--for example, the notorious court preacher Hoe, the subservient tool of the Elector--had excited the indignation of a powerful mind. A manly judgment, and a very just democratic tone appears in the strong expressions of this writing. We may judge of its peculiar tenour from the following passages:--

"I have never yet seen a single penny, and much less an inferior coin, on which was to be found the names, arms, or stamp of Kipper and Wipper, still less any inscription from the new quail call, kippediwipp. But one may truly see thereupon a well-known stamp or image, and the Kipper or Wipper will not appear even in the smallest letter of the alphabet.

"But if Herr Magister does not rightly understand the matter, let him ask who has bought the old saucepans at the highest price, in order to assist the coining; having done so, Herr Magister will truly learn who has coined the copper and tin money. For truly so many old pans in which so much good gruel or millet pap has been made, and so many coppers in which so much good beer has been brewed, are melted down and coined, and this not by the vulgar Kipper, but by the Arch kipper. For the others have no regale to coin, and if they, like the blood and deer hounds, have scented and hunted out such things, they have done so by the command of others, and thus are not to be so severely condemned as those (let them call themselves what they may) who have the regalie, and misuse it to the perceptible damage of the German States.

"No one now-a-days will bell the cat, or, like John the Baptist, tell the truth to Herod. Every one heaps abuse upon the poor rogues, the Kippers and Wippers, who nevertheless do not carry on this business by their own authority, for all that they do takes place with the knowledge, consent, and approbation of the government. And alas, they have now-a-days many competitors. For as soon as any one gets a penny or a groschen that is a little better than another, he forthwith makes with it usurious profit. Therefore, as experience teaches, it comes to pass as follows: the doctors abandon their invalids and think far more of usury than of Hippocrates and Galen; the lawyers forget their legal documents, lay aside their practice, and taking usury in hand, let who will peruse Bartholus and Balbus. The same is also done by other men of learning, who study arithmetic more than rhetoric and philosophy; the merchants, shop-keepers, and other traders acquire nowadays their greatest gains by their hardwares which are marked by the mint stamp.

"From this we may perceive that the 'unhanged, thievish, oath-forgetting, dishonourable,' Kippers and Wippers, though not indeed to be quite exculpated, are not so much to be condemned as if they were the causa principalis of the ruin of the German States. I have, alas! assuredly great fears, that if once there is a delivery to the devil or hangman, the Kippers and Wippers, changers and usurers, Jews and Jew associates, helpers and helpers' helpers, one thief with another, will all be hurled off to the devil, or be hung up at the same time together, like yonder host with his companions. Yet with a difference. For their principals and patrons will justly have the prerogative and pre-eminence, and indeed some of them have been already sent there beforehand. The others will shortly follow to the above-mentioned place, and it will then avail nothing on this journey downward, whether one treats them with carmina or crimina, whether one passes judgment on them as criminals, or gives them laudatory poems--facilis descensus Averni--they will easily find the way, for they need no good fortune for that; the devil will couple them all with one cord, be the rogues ever so big. Fiat."

It is not improbable that a similar view of their social prospects in another world was impressed upon the rulers from many quarters. At all events, even they discovered that they could only be saved by the most speedy help; nothing would avail them but the reduction and hasty withdrawal of the new coinage, and a return to the good old Imperial coin. Thus the first fears of the princes and cities caused them to depreciate their new money, and to make use of these verdicts in order to express their abhorrence--not of very old date--of the bad coin, and they forthwith had the coin stamped honourably of due weight and alloy, as prescribed by the Imperial law. In order to put a stop to the excessive increase of prices, they hastened to put forth a tariff of goods and wages, which decided the highest price to be permitted. It is clear that this latter remedy could not be of more lasting use than the famous edict of Diocletian, thirteen hundred years before. The compulsion which, for example, it exercised over the city weekly markets, day labourers, and guilds, was only a temporary help for restoring the overflowing stream to its old bed.

This state of intoxication, terror, and fury was followed by a dreary reaction. Men gazed on one another as after a great pestilence. Those who had rested secure in their opulence had sunk into ruin. Many worthless adventurers now strutted, as persons of distinction, in velvet and silk. The whole nation had become poorer. There had not been any great war for a long time, and many millions in silver and gold, the savings of the inferior classes, had been inherited in city and village from father to son; the greater part of these savings had vanished in the bad times; it had been squandered on carousals, frittered away on trifles, and at last expended for daily food. But this was not the greatest evil; it was a still greater, that at this time the citizen, and countryman had been forcibly torn from the path of their honest daily labour. Frivolity, an unsettled existence, and a reckless egotism, had taken possession of them. The destroying powers of war had sent forth their evil spirits to loosen the firm links of burgher society, and to accustom a peaceful, upright, and laborious people to the sufferings and mal-practices of an army which shortly overran all Germany.

The period from 1621 to 1623 was henceforth called the "Kipper and Wipper" time. The confusion, the excitement, the trafficking, and the flying-sheet literature lasted till the year 1625. The lessons which the princes had learnt from the consequences of their flagitious actions did not avail them against later temptations. Even at the end of the seventeenth century it seems to have been impossible for them entirely to avoid hedge mints, and the continual recurrence of a depreciation of money.

Whilst Tilly was conquering Lower Saxony, and Wallenstein made great havoc in Northern Germany, small literature flowed in an under-current. After every engagement, and every capture of a city, there appeared copper engravings, with a text which described the position of the troops and the appearance of the city; irregular newspapers, and songs of lament conveyed the information of the advance of the Imperialists, and the destruction of the Mansfelders. In the midst of all this the people were dismayed by terrible decrees of the Emperor, who now from his secure position threw over the evangelicals, or compelled them by force to return to his Church, in spite of the fruitless intercessions of the Elector of Saxony. The Elector at last authorized the publication of a defence of the Augsburg confession, against the attacks of the Catholic theologians; this comprehensive work, called, 'The necessary Defence of the Apple of the Eye,' written in 1628, called forth immediately a theological war; both opponents and allies hastened in crowds to the field. 'Spectacles for the Evangelical Apple of the Eye;' 'A sharp round Eye on the Romish Pope;' 'Who has struck the Calf in the Eye? The Catholic Oculist or Coucher;' 'Venetian Spectacles on Lutheran Nose,' &c. These are specimens of the defiant titles of the most readable of the controversial writings. But this literary strife was drowned in the burst of loud outcries against Wallenstein, which pierced from Pomerania through all the German States, on account of the battle near Stralsund, and his shameful conduct towards the Pomeranian Duke and his country, and finally the horrible ill treatment of the men and women of Pasewalk. Again these lamentations changed into a shout of joy from all the Protestants. Again hope and confidence revived; this time it was a man, whom the nation, with the genuine German longing to love and honour, welcomed with shouts of jubilee. What had been wanting to the Germans for a century, came to them from the North, an idol and a hero. But he was a foreigner.

Much of that halo of light still surrounds the figure of Gustavus Adolphus, which distinguished him in the eyes of his cotemporaries so immeasurably above all other generals and princes. It is not his victories, nor his knightly death, nor the circumstance that he appeared as the last help to a despairing people, which makes him the one prominent figure in the long struggle. It was the magic of his great nature, as he rode over the field of battle, firm, self-contained, and as confident as unerring; from head to foot he was dignity, decision, and nervous energy. If one examines more nearly, one is astonished at the strong contrasts which combined in this character to form an admirable unity. No General was more systematic, fertile in plans, or greater in the science of war. Discipline in the army, order in the commissariat, a firm basis, and secure lines of retreat in every strategical operation, these were the requisites he brought with him to the conduct of the German War. But even he, the powerful prince of war, was driven by an irresistible necessity from his good system, but with the whole power of his being he incessantly stemmed the tide of the wild marauding war that raged around him. And yet this same systematic man bore within him a rash spirit of daring against the greatest hazards; his bearing in the battle was wonderfully elevated, like that of a noble battle steed. His eyes lighted up, his figure became more lofty, and a smile played on his countenance. Again, how wonderful appears to men, the union in him of frank honesty and wary policy, of upright piety and worldly wisdom, of high-minded self-sacrifice and reckless ambition, of heartfelt humanity and stern severity! And all this was enlivened by an inward confidence and freedom of mind, which enabled him to look in a humorous point of view on the distracted condition of the decaying Princes of the country. The irresistible power which he exercised over all who came under his influence, consisted principally in the freshness of his nature, his surpassing good humour, and where it was necessary, an ironical bonhomie. The way in which he managed the proud and wavering Princes, and the hesitating cities of the Protestant party, was not to be surpassed; he was never weary of exciting them to war, and alliance; he ever reverted to the same theme, whether to the Envoy of the Brandenburger, or when flattering the Nurembergers, or chiding the Frankforters.

He was closely allied, both by race and faith, to the Northern Germans; but he was a foreigner. This was thoroughly and constantly felt by the Princes. It was not alone distrust of his superior power which, till the bitterest necessity compelled them to union, kept aloof from him the irresolute, but it was the discovery in him of a new master; they revolted at the idea of this mighty non-German power, which so suddenly and threateningly arose in the empire. There was still to be found in a few of them somewhat of Luther's national idea of the empire. They had no hesitation in negotiating with France, Denmark, the Netherlands, nay with the unreliable Bethlem Gabor; all these were outside the Empire. Within its boundaries there was the fanatical Emperor and his insupportable General; they were new people to them, who might pass away as rapidly as they had become great; but the sovereignty of the German Empire was old, and they were the pillars of it. This conception was no longer in accordance with the highest policy, for the German Emperor had become the most mortal enemy of the German Empire. But such a feeling is not deserving of contempt; and the nation as well as most of the Princes, felt to the heart's core that their quarrel with the Emperor was in fact a domestic one, in which foreigners should have no concern. But the people, blinded by their delight in the dazzling heroism of the Protestant King, lost sight of these considerations. For two years public opinion paid homage to him, as it has never done since, except to the Great Frederic of Prussia. Every word, every little anecdote was carried from city to city, and loud acclamations greeted every success of his arms. It was not only the zealous Protestants who thus felt; even in the Catholic armies and in the states of the League, the scorn was quickly silenced which had been called forth by the landing of the "Snow King," and the number of his admirers continually increased. Many characteristic traits of him are preserved to us; almost every conversation that he had with Germans, gives an opportunity of discovering something of his nature. We will give here a short conversation, after his landing in Pomerania, recorded by a clever negotiator.

The Elector of Brandenburg had sent his plenipotentiary, Von Wilmersdorff, to persuade the King to conclude an armistice with the Emperor; he further wished to negotiate a peace between them, although Wallenstein had already deprived him of his dominions, and the Emperor had shown him every kind of disregard. The conversation of the King with the Envoy gives a good picture of his method of negotiating. He is here concise, firm, and straightforward, in spite of some mental reservation; and so perfectly self-possessed that he can allow his lively temperament to break forth without danger. The Envoy relates as follows:--

"After his Kingly Majesty had listened graciously to me, though when I came to the proposition of an armistice he rather smiled, he, no one being present, answered me circumstantially.

"'I had expected a different kind of embassy from my loving cousin; that is to say, that he would rather have come to meet me and united himself with me for his own welfare; and not that my loving cousin should be so weak as to lose this opportunity so providentially sent by God. My loving cousin will not comprehend the clear and evident intentions of his enemies; he does not discern the difference between pretexts and truth, nor consider that when this pretence shall cease, that is to say, when they have no longer anything more to fear from me, another will soon be found to establish himself in my loving cousin's country.

"'I had not expected that my loving cousin would have been so much terrified at the war as to remain inactive notwithstanding all the consequences to himself. Or does not my cousin yet know, that the intention of the Emperor and his allies is not to desist till the evangelical religion is entirely rooted out of the empire? my loving cousin must be prepared either to deny his religion or abandon his country. Does he think that anything else can be obtained by prayers, entreaties, or the like means? For God's sake let him reflect a little, and for once take mascula consilia. You see how this excellent prince the Duke of Pomerania was in the most innocent way,--having really committed no offence but only peaceably drunk his beer,--brought into the most lamentable condition, and how wonderfully he was saved under God's providence, fato quodam necessario--for he was constrained to do so--by making terms with me. What he did from necessity my loving cousin may do willingly.

"'I cannot withdraw, jacta est alea, transivimus Rubiconem. I do not seek my own advantage in this business; I gain nought but the security of my kingdom; beyond this I have nothing but expenses, trouble, labour, and danger to body and soul. They have occasioned me enough; in the first place they have twice sent help to my enemies the Poles, and endeavoured to drive me away; then they have endeavoured to possess themselves of the harbours of the Baltic, whereby I could well perceive what their intentions towards me were. My loving cousin the Elector is in a similar case, and it is now time that he should open his eyes and give up somewhat of his easy life, that he may no longer be a Stadtholder of the Emperor, nay even an Imperial servant in his own country: "Qui se fait brebis le loup le mange."

"'This is now precisely the best opportunity, when your country is free from Imperial soldiers, to garrison and defend your fortresses. If you will not do this, deliver over one to me, if it be only Küstrin, I will defend it, and you may then remain in the inactivity which your Prince so dearly loves.

"'What other will you do? For I declare to you distinctly, I will not hear of neutrality, my loving cousin must be either friend or foe. When I come to your frontier you must show yourselves either cold or warm. This is a struggle between God and the devil; if my loving cousin will hold to God, let him unite with me; but if he would rather hold to the devil, he must henceforth fight against me, tertium non dabitur, of that he may be assured.

"'Take this commission upon you to inform my loving cousin secretly of it, for I have none with me whom I can spare to send to him. If my loving cousin will treat with me, I will see if I can go to him myself; but with his present arrangements I will have nothing to do.

"'My loving cousin trusts neither in God nor to his good friends. It has gone ill with him therefore in Prussia and this country. I am the devoted servant of my loving cousin, and love him from my heart: my sword shall be at his service, and it shall preserve him in his sovereignty and to his people, but he must do his part also.

"'My loving cousin has great interest in this dukedom of Pomerania; this will I also defend for his advantage, but on the same condition as in the book of Ruth the next inheritor is commanded to take Ruth for his wife, so must my loving cousin take to him this Ruth; that is, unite himself with me in this righteous business if he wishes to inherit the country. If not, I here declare that he shall never obtain it.

"'I am not disinclined to peace, and have conformed myself to it contentedly. I know well that the chances of war are doubtful; I have experienced that, in the many years in which I have carried on war with various fortune. But as I have now, by God's grace, come so far, no one can counsel me to withdraw, not even the Emperor himself if he were to make use of his reason.

"'I might perhaps allow of an armistice for a month. It may appear fitting to me that my loving cousin should mediate. But he must place himself in a position, arms in hand, otherwise all his mediation will avail nothing. Some of the Hanse towns are ready to unite with me. I only wait for some one in the Empire to put himself prominently at the head. What might not the electors of Saxony and Brandenburg together with these cities, accomplish? Would to God that there were a Maurice!'

"Thereupon I replied that I had no commands from his Electoral Highness to confer with his Majesty, touching an armed alliance. But in my poor opinion, I doubted much whether his Electoral Highness would be able to come to an understanding without detriment to his honour and truth, salvo honore et fide sua.

"Then his Majesty interposed promptly: 'Yes, they will honour you when they have deprived you of your land and people. The Imperialists will keep faith with you as they have kept the capitulation.'

"I: 'It is necessary to look to the future, and consider how all will fall to ruin if the undertaking does not prosper.'

"The King: 'That will happen if you remain inactive, and would have done so already if I had not come. My loving cousin ought to do as I have done, and commend the result to God. I have not lain on a bed for fourteen days. I might have spared myself this trouble and sat at home with my wife if I had had no greater considerations.'

"I: 'As your Kingly Majesty is content that his Electoral Highness should become mediator, you must at least allow his Electoral Highness to remain neutral.'

"The King: 'Yes, till I come to his country. Such an idea is mere chaff, which the wind raises and blows away. What kind of a thing is that Neutrality? I do not understand it!'

"I: 'Yet your Kingly Majesty understood it well in Prussia, where you yourself suggested it to his Electoral Highness and to the city of Dantzic.'

"The King: 'Not to the Elector, but certainly to the city of Dantzic, for it was to my advantage.'

"After this he returned again to the subject of the Duke of Pomerania, saying that the good prince had been well content with him. He would have restored him Stralsund, Rügen, Usedom, Wollin, and all the rest. The Duke had desired that his Majesty should be his father. 'But I,' said his Majesty, 'answered, I would rather be his son, as he has no children.'

"Thereupon I answered: 'Yes, Kingly Majesty, that might very well be, if his Electoral Highness could only maintain the law of primogeniture in Pomerania.'

"The King: 'Yes, that may be very easily maintained by my loving cousin; but he must defend it, and not, like Esau, sell it for a mess of pottage.'"

Thus far goes the narrative.

When the great King, the lord of half Germany, sank into the dust in battle, the wail of lamentation broke forth in all the Protestant territories. Funeral services were performed in the towns and country, endless elegies poured forth; even the enemy concealed their joy under a manly sympathy, which at that time was seldom accorded to opponents.

His death was considered as a national misfortune; the deliverer and the saviour of the people was lost: we also, whether Catholic or Protestant, should not only regard with heartfelt sympathy that pure hero life, which in the prime of its strength was so suddenly extinguished, but we should also contemplate with the deepest gratitude the influence of the King upon the German war; for he had, in a time of desperation, defended that which Luther had attained for the whole nation,--freedom of soul, and capacity for the development of national strength against the most fearful enemy of the German national existence, against a crushing despotism in Church and State. But we must also observe concerning him, that the fate which he met strikes us as more peculiarly tragical because he drew it upon himself. History makes us acquainted with some characters which, after mighty deeds, are suddenly struck down at the height of their fame by a rapid change of fate in the midst of powerful but unaccomplished conception. Such heroes have a popular mixture of qualities of soul, which make them the privileged favourites both of posterity and art. Such was the case with the almost fabulous hero, the great Alexander; and thus it was, in a more limited sphere, with smaller means, with the Swedish King Gustavus Adolphus: but however accidental the fever or the bullet which carried them off may appear to us, their destruction arose from their own greatness. The conqueror of Asia had become an Asiatic despot before he died; the deliverer of Germany was shot by an Imperial mercenary when he was rushing through the dust of the battle-field, not like a General of the seventeenth century, but like a "Viking" of the olden time, who fought their battles in wild excitement under the protection of the battle-maidens of Odin. Often already had the incautious heroism of the King led him into rash daring and useless danger, and long had his faithful adherents feared that he would at some time meet his end thus. It was a wise policy which led him to establish himself on the German coast, in order to secure to his Sweden the dominion of the Baltic, also to draw the sea-ports to his interests, and to desire firm points of support on the Oder, Elbe, and Weser. But what duty did he owe to the German Empire, whose own Emperor wished to suppress the national life and popular development by Roman money, and calling thither hordes of soldiers from half Europe? When Gustavus Adolphus conceived the idea of making himself lord paramount over the German Princes, when he proceeded to form an hereditary power for himself in Germany, he was no longer the great cotemporary of Richelieu, but again the descendant of an old Norman chieftain. It is possible that the power of the man, during a longer life and after many victories, might have brought under his sway, with or without an Imperial throne, the greater part of Germany; but that Sweden, the foundation of his power, was not in a position to exercise a lasting supremacy over Germany, a small distant country over a larger, must have been obvious even then to the weakest politician. The King might still for some years longer have sacrificed the peasant sons of Sweden on the German battle-fields, and corrupted the Swedish nobility by German plunder; but he could not build up an enduring dynasty for both people, whatever his genius might have accomplished for a time. Men of ordinary powers would soon have restored things to their natural condition. We are therefore of opinion, that he died just when his lofty desires were beginning to contend against a fundamental law of the new state life, and we may assume that even a longer life of success would not have made much alteration in our position. When he died, his natural heir in Germany was already twelve years of age: this heir was Frederic William, the great Elector of Brandenburg. Gustavus Adolphus was the last but one of the northern princes to whom the old Scandinavian expedition to the south proved fatal. Charles XII., dying before Friedrichshall, was the last.

As the funeral lament died away in Germany, there began a reaction in public opinion against the foreigners. The Catholic faction had, during the whole war, the doubtful advantage that their quarrels and private dissensions were not brought to light by the press, but their Protestant opponents were broken into parties. It was more especially after Saxony, in 1635, had endeavoured, at Prague, to make an inglorious reconciliation with the Emperor by a separate peace, that there arose both in the north and south an Imperial and a Swedish party, and much weak dissension besides. The French endeavoured, but without success, to gain by means of the press, adherents on the Rhine. Bernhard von Weimar found warm admirers, who foresaw in him the successor of Gustavus Adolphus. He possessed great talents as a General, and some of the winning qualities of the great King; but he was only in one respect his successor, that he carried on in the most dangerous way the too great political daring of his instructor. He wished to make use of, and at the same time deceive, a foreign power which was greater and stronger than himself: it was an unequal struggle, and he, as the weaker party, was soon put aside by France, and these foreigners possessed themselves of his political legacy, his fortress and his army.

While love and hate were thus divided in this gloomy period, there arose among the better portion of the nation a characteristic patriotism, which the German people, in the midst of their great need and sufferings, opposed to the egotistic interests of the rulers who helped to destroy each other. There no longer existed any party to which a wise man could from his heart wish success. Differences of faith had diminished, and the soldiers complained, without scruple, of confession. Then began for the first time a new political system, called a constitution founded on reason, in opposition to the reckless selfishness of the rulers. But even this constitutional principle, the basis of which was the advantage of the whole, as it was then understood, was still without greatness of conception or any deep moral purport; and there was no repugnance to the employment of the worst means in carrying it out. Still it was an advance. Even the peaceful citizen, after eighteen years of troubles, was obliged to take an interest in this political system. The character of the ruling powers and their interests became everywhere a subject of deliberation. Every one was terrified out of his provincial narrowness of mind, and had urgent reasons for interesting themselves in the fate of foreign countries. Thousands of fugitives, the most powerful members of the community, had scattered themselves over distant provinces, the same misfortunes had befallen them also. Thus, amidst the horrors of war, was developed in Germany a feeling of distrust of their rulers, a longing for a better national condition. It was a great but dearly bought advance of public opinion; it may be discerned more particularly in the political literature after the peace of Prague. A specimen of this tendency is here introduced from a small flying-sheet, which appeared in 1636 under the title of 'The German Brutus: that is, a letter thrown before the public.'

"You Swedes complain that Germany is ungrateful, that it drives you away with violence, that the good deeds, done with God's power by Joshua, are forgotten, the alliance no longer thought of, in short, that you are less valued, like an old worn-out horse, or decrepit hound, both of which, when no longer useful, get such thanks as the world gives. Thus you are treated with great injustice before God and the world.

"Be of good comfort: there are many remaining who wish you well from their heart, who pray for you, and show their devotion to you in every possible way. A country where such people are to be found cannot be accused of ingratitude; and that there are yet many thousand such people, even your enemies know right well. But that selfishness, secret envy, hidden counsels, and clandestine negotiations are stirred up against you, must not be ascribed to the whole of this praiseworthy German nation, but only to the causes which have led to such results; for you have on your part shown a double amount of selfishness.

"In the first place, in raising at your pleasure the toll on the Baltic; for I have been told by honest trustworthy seafaring folk, that you have exacted from people, not only from fifteen to thirty, but up to forty, nay, even to fifty out of a hundred, and have troubled all hearts by this rapacity; and as no improvement has taken place, but commerce has been thereby miserably straitened, and many honest people have been lamentably brought to beggary, the minds of men being thereby much embittered, your best friends began at first to condemn you secretly, and at last through their falling fortunes were made your worst enemies. Would you throw the blame on the toll gatherers? They are your servants. It is a well-known rule of law: what I do by my servant is as though done by myself. You appear to me exactly like him who carried off a pair of shoes secretly and offered them afterwards to the holy Benno.

"The states and cities of the Empire, so long as they were in your hands, contributed fully and sufficiently to your maintenance; many, nay too many, to say the least of it, as a proof of their fidelity, have lost soul and body, wealth and life, nay all their privileges, and, in a great measure, religion itself. Ratisbon testifies to this. Augsburg laments over it. All grieve together over it. You have allowed the old regiments to dissolve, have completed no companies, nor paid either new or old, notwithstanding you have demanded, and in fact received large sums of money from many Diets; I say nothing of what you have extorted from your enemies in their own countries. How has this money been spent? In superfluous pomp and luxury which is hateful to every one. We have observed this silently, and made a virtue of necessity. The children of Israel, when they had intercourse with the daughters of their enemies, and afterwards boasted of their victory, and tormented their brethren of Judah with the hardest yoke of bondage, were both times severely punished by God. And shall it fare better with you who have exercised more than Turkish cruelty in many evangelical places? The corn from the monastery of Magdeburg, the Dukedom of Brunswick and other places, has been thrashed out and carried off in heaps from the country, sold at a very high price, and the money spent for your own use, nothing given to the poor soldiers; the country people, harassed to death, are dying of hunger; and many fortresses, from avarice, either not supplied with provisions, or not amply provided with powder and shot, and, in short, general mismanagement. Now we see ourselves everywhere abandoned by fortune, so that at last we discover there is no money in hand, and no people to be got, as those who were available have run away, and the remainder will no longer be restrained by martial law. Dear friends, think you of the saying of Boccalini: 'When the prince leads the life of Lucifer, what wonder that the subjects become devils!'

"Our politicians know well that the Electors hold kingly rank in the Empire. But who has exalted himself above them with kingly magnificence, a great retinue and boundless expense, is it not your chief (Oxenstiern)? Do you think that this has not been complained of at every court? His Kingly Majesty of Christian memory never did the like. From these and countless other reasons the Princes, states, and cities have become first secretly, and then publicly offended with you; to this may be added a conduct towards the established inhabitants which they cannot well bear, when foreigners place themselves higher than their native princes.

"You say that electoral Saxony should have made peace by force of arms. Let us leave that uncertain. It is known to every one that certain persons have helped to shove the cart into the mud, and afterwards left it there. If electoral Saxony has been wrong, you with your procedures are not less guilty. In short, every one, be he who he may, has sought his own advantage; therefore Magdeburg lies in ashes, Wismar is in ruins, Augsburg is bound with the fetters of servitude, Nuremberg is in peril of death, Ulm is in quotidian fever, Strasburg has passed to the French, Frankfort has the jaundice, and the whole Empire is consumed. The enemy have beaten with rods, but you have chastised with scorpions. The Wallensteiners inflicted wounds, and you physicians have applied drawing plasters as a remedy instead of oil, have corrupted the blood and fastened yourselves on like a crab; such a crab must either be cut out by force, or satisfied daily by inordinate sums of money. The last is out of our power, the first we do not wish to do to you, but cannot help it. If God thus harasses you it is your own fault. Meanwhile, do you think that God has a flaxen beard, and will allow himself to be led by the nose? Oh, no, He sees well that you shelter yourselves under the name of freedom, that you make use of the cloak of the gospel, and at the same time live as Turks.

"You cry out much about the Spanish monarchy. I have no fears of it. Give me one of the best chemists who is sufficiently scientific to know how to mingle earth and ores, so that they will hold together firm and infrangible, and then let us see whether we have to fear the Spanish monarchy. But I am afraid that France will be to us Germans, the broken reed of Egypt, which will pierce the hand of whoever leans on it. All empires have their fixed time appointed by God, and a boundary across which they cannot pass. First they arise, then grow like boys; some improve as youths, remain for a time at a standstill in their manhood, then decline, become old, languish and at last die; nay, are so utterly annihilated, that one scarcely knows that they have existed. This course of things cannot be prevented by any human wisdom. The wise man sees this, and prepares himself beforehand; the fool does not believe it, and is ruined, like the surviving Generals of Alexander the Great, who so long divided his conquests, till the Romans became their masters. And truly the Empire has great need to rid herself at last of foreign physicians.

"I have been severe, but a steel axe is necessary to sever such a hard knot, one cannot cut with a fur coat.

"It is asked what will be the issue? It rests with God. Have you had too little bloodshed? Let God be the judge, and fly ye from his wrath. Although the Church still suffers, it is not yet dead. You cannot complain that you have gained nothing for the money you have spent and the dangers you have undergone. You have brought copper out of your country, but carried silver and gold back to it. Sweden, before this war, was of wood thatched with straw, now it is of stone, and splendidly adorned, and that you have obtained from the abducted vessels of Egypt. This no one would grudge you if you would only thank God yourselves for it. The Germans have indeed been excited to rise against their Emperor, but they will take no one who is not of their race and language. If the house of Austria has done evil, God will truly search it out. As concerns the French, I know well that God will, through them, punish Germany; for we have daily imitated in manners, ceremonies, demeanour, and entertainments, in language and clothing, together with music, this nation of apish behaviour and dress, and frivolous manners. How can we expect better than to fall into their hands? But the Frenchman will not therefore become our Emperor. To him belongs the Lily, the Eagle to the Germans, the East to the Turks, and the West to the Spaniards. None among them can reach higher.

"I must hope that it will not be taken amiss of me, that I have so roundly described these transactions. But frankness suits a German well. Would to God that any one had in good time thus placed the matter before you. Now we can indeed complain, but help, none either will or can give. God alone will and can help us; to Him we must pray that He may at last have compassion on us, and turn the hearts of the high potentates to love and long-wished-for peace."

Here ends the flying-sheet. The author, without putting sympathy with the Imperialists in the foreground, evidently belongs less to the Swedish party than we do now. Undoubtedly the Swedish soldiers and officers had become merciless devils, like the Imperialists, and, like them, they ruined the country and people. But it was not their exorbitant demands which hindered the peace, but the injustice of the Emperor, who still continued to raise the execrable pretension to subdue the life and freedom of the nation to his interest. Had it been possible for the Hapsburgers to assure freedom of faith, and the independence of the Imperial tribunals, almost all the German princes would have succumbed to him to drive away the foreigners. But the struggle stood thus: either the nation must be crushed, and all the ideas suppressed, which had grown up in the German soil for one hundred and forty years, or the pretensions of the Imperial House must be certainly and fundamentally overcome: The last was impossible to the Germans without the help of Sweden. Thus on a retrospect of those years, every one will be well disposed to Sweden, who does not consider it a mere accident that well-known men of later times, like Lessing, Goethe, Schiller, Kant, Fichte, Hegel, and Humboldt did not blossom out of the country in which hundreds of thousands were driven from Church and school, by the Jesuits of Ferdinand II. But at that period the patriot undoubtedly felt the weakness of the Empire more than all the fearful misery of the people. And great ground there was for anxiety about the future. From this point of view this brochure is to us the first expression of that feeling which still, in the present day, unites hundreds of thousands of Germans. That love of Fatherland took root in the oppressed souls of our ancestors during the Thirty years' war, which has not yet attained to political life by a unity of constitutions. Such a feeling indeed only existed then in the minds of the noblest. But we must honour those who, in a century poor in hope, left in their teaching and writings, as an inheritance to their descendants, the idea of a German Empire.

After Banner's devastating expedition all was quiet in Germany. Almost all the news and State records which the war had left, flowed from the press. In the last years thousands of printed sheets were filled with the negotiations for peace. Finally the peace was announced to the poor people in large placards.

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.