Pictures of German Life in the XVth XVIth and XVIIth Centuries Volume I Part 12

Hans von Schweinichen lived during this period of transition, which was about the end of the sixteenth century; he was a Silesian n.o.bleman of old family, groom of the bedchamber, chamberlain, and factotum of the Quixotic Duke Heinrich XI. of Liegnitz. We see the characters of both, in juxta-position in two biographies written by Schweinichen. One is the account of his own life, 'Life and Adventures of the Silesian Knight, Hans von Schweinichen, published by Busching, three parts, 1820;' the other an extract from it, with some alterations and additions: 'The Life of Duke Heinrich XI., published in Stenzel; Script. Rer. Siles. iv.,' both, works of great value as a history of the manners of the sixteenth century.

The old royal house of Silesian Piastens produced, with a few exceptions, a set of wild, wrong-headed rulers, with great pretensions and small powers.

One of the most remarkable among them is Heinrich XI. von Liegnitz, the dissolute son of a worthless father. When the latter, Duke Friedrich III. was deposed by the Imperial commissioners in the year 1559, and put under arrest as a disturber of the community, the government of the princ.i.p.ality devolved upon his son, then twenty years of age. After ten years of misrule he quarrelled with his brother Friedrich and his n.o.bility, and in a fit of despotic humour caused the States of the duchy to be all imprisoned. Whilst the indignant members were appealing against him to the Emperor, he himself undertook an adventurous expedition through Germany, making the round of numerous courts and towns as a beggar, during which, the lack of money plunged him into one embarra.s.sment after another, and led him into every kind of unworthy action. Meanwhile he was suspended, and his brother, who was not much better, was established as administrator. Heinrich complained querulously, undertook a new begging expedition to the German courts, and at last made his solicitations to the Emperor at Prague; he was still under the severe pressure of pecuniary embarra.s.sments, but finally succeeded in obtaining the restoration of his duchy. Now followed fresh recklessness and open opposition to the Imperial commissary, a new deposition and strict imprisonment at Breslau. From this imprisonment he escaped and wandered about in foreign parts as a friendless adventurer; he offered his services to Queen Elizabeth of England in her war with Philip of Spain; and at last went to Poland to fight against Austria. He died suddenly at Cracow in 1586, probably of poison.

If in his shatterbrained character there was anything out of the common way, it was his being entirely devoid of all one is accustomed to consider as honourable and conscientious. He had not the frivolity of his courtiers who cast off all reflection, but he entirely lacked all moral feeling. Being a prince, this recklessness for a long time answered, for with a pleasing facility he slipped out of all difficulties, and with a smile or dignified surprise, made his way out of positions that would have brought burning blushes to the cheeks of most others. It was indifferent to him how he obtained money; when in distress he wrote begging letters to all the world, even to the Romish Legate, though himself a Protestant; from every court and city which he visited, and where according to the custom of those times he was entertained, he endeavoured to borrow money. Generally the host, taken by surprise, came to terms with Schweinichen, and instead of the loan, a small travelling fee was given, with which the Prince was content. He had a wife, an insignificant woman, whom he was sometimes compelled to take with him; she had also to make s.h.i.+ft and contract debts like him, and after having forced herself on the hospitality of the rich Bohemian n.o.bles, she sought for loans through Schweinichen, and received their courtly refusals with princely demeanour. All this would be simply contemptible if there was not something original in it, as Duke Heinrich, in spite of all, had a strong feeling of the princely dignity which he so often disgraced, and was as far as outward appearance was concerned a distinguished man. Not only with his Schweinichen, but also in the courts of foreign princes, indeed even in social intercourse with the Emperor, he was according to the ideas of those times an agreeable companion, well skilled in knightly pursuits, always good humoured, amused with every joke made by others, quick at repartee, and in serious things he appeared really eloquent. In some matters also he showed in his actions traces of a manly understanding. However unseemly his tyrannical conduct, as Duke, towards his States, however strange his open resistance to the Imperial power, and however childish his hope of becoming elective King of Poland, yet the foundation of all this was the abiding feeling that his n.o.ble origin gave him the right to aspire to the highest position. He was always engrossed with political interests and plans. Nothing ever prospered to him, for he was unstable, reckless, and not to be trusted, but his aims were always great, either a king's throne or a field-marshal's staff. It was this, and not his drunken follies, that cast him down from his throne, and at last into the grave. On one other point he was steadfast,--he was a Protestant; although he did not hesitate a moment to demand loans of his Catholic opponents in the most shameless way; yet when the Papal Legate promised him a considerable revenue, and indeed his reinstatement in his princ.i.p.ality if he would become a Roman Catholic, he rejected this proposal with contempt. If he engaged himself as a soldier, it was by preference against the Hapsburgers. Such a personage, with his freedom from all principle, his complete recklessness, his impracticable and at the same time elastic character, and his mind filled with the highest projects, appears to us as a representative of the dark side which is developed in the Sclavonic nature.

Other princes of his race, above all his brother Friedrich, are epitomes of the faults of the German character. Mean, egotistic, narrow-minded, and suspicious, without decision or energy, Duke Friedrich was his perfect opposite.

Another contrast is to be found in his biographer and companion, the Junker Hans von Schweinichen. This comical madcap was a thorough German Silesian. When a boy, as page of the imprisoned Duke Friedrich, and as whipping-boy of the son, he had early made a thorough acquaintance with the wild proceedings of the Liegnitzer court, and been initiated into all its intrigues. His father, a landed proprietor, had fallen into debt in consequence of having once become security for Duke Heinrich.

Schweinichen was co-heir to a deeply involved property, and up to an advanced age was engaged in endless quarrels with the creditors, and also with his relations, who had been surety for him, and for whom he had been surety. This was indeed, towards the end of the sixteenth century, the usual lot of landed proprietors. But besides this, he for many years joined in all the mad pranks of his princely master, which were for the most part rather of a lax nature, so he came in for no unimportant share of these frivolous proceedings. The moral cultivation of those times was undoubtedly on the whole much lower than that of ours, and he must only be judged by the standard of his own time. He was no man of the sword, and his valour was tempered by a strong degree of caution. Always in good humour, and at the same time crafty, furnished with great powers of persuasion, he contrived to glide like an eel through the most difficult situations with the open bearing of an honest man, and the most good humoured countenance in the world.

Even when most dissolute he still clung to the hope of redeeming the future, and whilst living as a wild courtier, he considered himself as an honourable country n.o.bleman, who had to preserve the good opinion of his fellows. He had always a small degree of conscientiousness in domestic matters; his was not however a burdensome or strict conscience, and demanded only occasional obedience. He valued himself not a little, and gradually began to take less pleasure in his master's vagaries. The endless changes, the quarrels with Jews and Christians, and the anxieties about the daily wine, made this life at last too irregular for him; he had always kept a diary of his own life, and seldom forgot to note down that on the previous evening he had been tipsy: at the end of each year's diary, which sometimes contained nothing but a succession of convivial parties and discreditable money transactions, he would commend his soul to G.o.d, and after that, note the price of corn in the last year. All that he had mortgaged for his lord we find marked down in his diary with a statement, as precise as superfluous, of the real worth in silver. After he had thus pretty nearly mortgaged everything, he experienced the heartfelt grief of seeing his Duke in the Imperial prison, there he parted with him, not without grief, as one parts from the friend of one's youth; but his German understanding told him that this parting was fortunate for himself. Then followed years in which he drank with his neighbours, reconciled himself with Duke Friedrich, to whom he even became chamberlain, married, leased a small property, and half as landlord, half as courtier, lived respectably like others. Afterwards, when another prince ruled the country, Schweinichen became a royal councillor, and an active member of the government; he had the gout, lost his wife and married another. He still continued to move restlessly about the country, adjusted the differences of the n.o.blemen and peasants, occasionally got tipsy with good comrades, discharged debts, acquired landed property, increased in respectability as in age, and died highly esteemed. His escutcheon, emblazoned with eight quarterings, shone conspicuously upon the black mourning horses at his funeral, as it had done when arranged by himself for his deceased father; his effigy was cut in stone upon his tomb in the village church, and his banner hung above it, whilst the coffin of his unhappy prince was still above ground unconsecrated, walled up in a ruined chapel by zealous monks, as that of a heretic.

The following episode is taken from the biography of Schweinichen. It occurred in 1578, the time in which Duke Heinrich was suspended in his government by Imperial mandate and lived in Hainau on a fixed income under the sovereignty of his younger brother. Schweinichen was then six-and-twenty; Schartlin had died two months before at the advanced age of eighty-two.

"Duke Heinrich found that it was no longer possible to hold a court in Hainau, and notified to his Imperial Majesty, that as Duke Friedrich would no longer give him an allowance, his Princely Grace would take it himself where he could. To this the Emperor gave no answer, but allowed things to take their course, as neither party would conform to his Imperial Majesty's commands, 'as the one prince broke jugs and the other pitchers.' Now his Princely Grace knew that the States had a great store of corn at Groditzberg, so the Duke took counsel with me how he should capture Groditzberg, and there keep house till he learned the Imperial determination. I could by no means approve of this affair nor give counsel thereto, for many serious reasons which I laid before his Princely Grace's consideration. For his Imperial Majesty would interpret it as a breach of the peace, and his Princely Grace would thereby make matters worse rather than better. Because I thus discussed it with the Duke, his Princely Grace was ill-content with me, and said I was good for nothing in such affairs; for he had in his own mind, determined to march out and try whether he could not take the fortress; so he commanded me to prepare twelve troopers, and to tell the Junkers that they were to ride with him, yet not to inform them where his Princely Grace was going.

"Although I still continued to entreat of his Princely Grace not to do this, as he would bring the whole country upon him, and I therefore wished to dissuade him from it, yet I could not prevail with him, but he went forth, and commanded me meanwhile not to move from the house at Hainau till he called me away. But if his Princely Grace should capture the fortress in the night, he would immediately send back a mounted messenger, and if I heard a shot I should at once admit him, and obey the commands that he brought. Thus my lord marched from Hainau the 18th of August, about two o'clock, to Groditzberg. When his Princely Grace came into the wood under the hill, he sent up two hors.e.m.e.n as if to examine the place; these were to bring information who were there, and if they found that my lord could advance, they were to fire a shot. As they found only two men there, they fired the shot. His Princely Grace speedily rode up, took the castle, and about three o'clock in the night, according to agreement, sent a mounted messenger to me. Now when I heard the shot before the door at Hainau, I was greatly terrified, and said to those who were with me in the room: 'This shot will rouse all the country against my lord.' They did not understand this, but suspected that my lord had carried off Duke Friedrich. I forthwith ordered the gates of the castle to be opened. His Princely Grace had sent me notice through Ulrich Rausch, that he had taken possession of Groditzberg and did not think of returning; but to send forthwith up to that place, his remaining horses, servants, and other things.

"Two days afterwards, two Polish lords, Johann and Georg Ra.s.serschafsky, announced themselves as visitors to his Princely Grace at Hainau, of which I speedily informed the Duke, and inquired what I should do. Thereupon his Princely Grace replied, that I should receive and entertain them a few days at Hainau; and he sent me six dollars for the charges. As the Polish lords had sixteen hors.e.m.e.n with them, the whole six dollars went for wine at the first sitting; so I had to consider how with care and by borrowing I might provide for those lords who were to abide there for a fortnight. Thereupon my lord wrote to me to bring them to Groditzberg, and to accompany them myself. There the Duke had already established a guard of twenty men, armed with long carabines, having become a warrior; and at the reception of the two lords, caused six trumpets and kettledrums to be sounded. As soon as I came up to the castle, his Princely Grace charged me with the care of the household.

"His Princely Grace wished to have the house supplied with provisions, and commanded me to get in a store of four-and-twenty malters of flour, which I did; and I also bought at his desire, eight malters of salt.

The enormous piles of preserved mushrooms and bilberries is not to be told; great vats full, whereby much money was wasted. Twelve pigs also were fattened at the castle upon corn alone, and the Duke himself was wont to feed them. Everything was prepared for the siege of the castle.

Now there were carriers at Modelsdorf who had to convey lead from Breslau to Leipzig; when therefore his Princely Grace learnt this, he commanded that two carriers should bring this lead up to the castle, the value of which amounted to more than two hundred and fifty thalers.

It was conveyed into the house and remained lying there. The merchants hearing this, complained to the Bishop, who called upon my lord to deliver up the lead forthwith; this, however, his Princely Grace would not do, but offered some day to pay for the lead from his allowance. In the end it remained unpaid; and the carriers got into great trouble on this account. Then Bishop Martin[65] sent commissaries to Groditzberg; and his Princely Grace kept them two days with him and gave them good entertainment, but allowed them to depart again with the affair unsettled.

"Meanwhile Frau von Herrnsdorf invited me to a wedding; without doubt to please her daughter, to whom I was not averse, and whom I was courting. I therefore asked his Princely Grace for leave of absence, and also to lend me three horses, which he did most willingly; and as his servants were just then being newly dressed in gray cloth, I requested that those who were to accompany me might be clothed first. I then had my sword and dagger sharpened, and adorned myself as I best could. Thus I rode with three hors.e.m.e.n to Herrnsdorf, where the young lady received me with great pleasure. I helped to fetch the bride to Herrnsdorf, making my appearance with my trumpeter. We continued together after the wedding till the Sat.u.r.day, full of jollity; and although I was in the mean time recalled by the Duke, I remained late, that it might not be perceived that I had the Duke's hors.e.m.e.n. On Sat.u.r.day, however, I rode forth again, and when I arrived at Groditzberg, I desired the trumpeter to blow; but when I dismounted at the castle, a good friend of mine came and informed me that his Princely Grace was very angry with me, and had sworn that he would put me in arrest in one of the rooms in the courtyard: I did not, however, trouble myself about it, but entered the castle so that my lord might see me from the corridor. Now his Princely Grace had some Polish guests with him; but there was no provision either in kitchen or cellar; so for more than an hour after the trumpeter had summoned to table, there was nothing served up. His Princely Grace sent to me to desire that I would cause dinner to be served up, and would be in attendance. In answer, I let the Duke know that I had learned his Princely Grace was angry with me; I had therefore hesitated to appear before him, but when his Princely Grace should hear the cause of my prolonged absence he would be well content. But the Duke returned for answer, that I must be in attendance; that he already knew the cause of my prolonged absence, that I loved the maiden better than him. When therefore, at table, I presented the water to his Princely Grace, he looked very sour, but I pretended not to perceive it. His Princely Grace began a carouse, but when it was at its highest, the wine failed. Thereupon his Princely Grace sent to inform me that there was no more wine, and that I had brought him to shame by not returning at the right time. I returned for answer to the Duke that it was no fault of mine; and why had not his Princely Grace sent for wine in proper time? Then his Princely Grace informed me he had no money, but that I was to send quickly for some wine.

"I desired then to be informed what I was to do, adding that if he was angry with me, he should tell me so himself. I had meanwhile a little cask of wine, containing about six firkins, lying concealed in the cellar. When a gla.s.s of this wine was poured out for the Duke, he cried out, 'My steward, I drink to you on your return!' called me to him, and said, 'I have been very angry with you, but it is now past; see to it that you get me provisions, and above all, wine.' I answered, 'Your Princely Grace may now be merry; there will be no lack of wine; other things also shall not be wanting; but your Princely Grace had no cause to look so askance at me, for I had been with a fair lady whom you would gladly have seen.' Whereupon the Duke said, 'I like you, and am well pleased with you; I was sure that you would have something in store.' So we became again master and servant, and all ungraciousness was at an end; and thus after my gaieties I was obliged to return to my cares, and consider how I could provide for the kitchen and cellar, which, after my pleasuring, was very distasteful to me. I learnt from various sources that endeavours had been made to blacken my character with the Duke, by representing me as a traitor, and as having dealings with Duke Friedrich, with whom I had made so long a stay; which was not the case, as I was too honourable to do the like. But it is usual to find many backbiters at princes' courts. I was desirous to learn from the Duke who my detractor was; but his Princely Grace would not tell me, and answered that he had not believed it.

"As the supply of corn and other things were nearly at an end, and there was nothing more in store, I was obliged to seek after provisions. Now Heinrich Schweinichen von Thomaswaldau had a number of old sheep which no one else would buy, and I could not buy any other cattle for want of money, as we had none; so his Grace bade me to traffic with my cousin for the old sheep, and I made a bargain with him to pay twenty silver groschen apiece for the sheep, and there were three hundred and twenty-five of them. But when we had agreed upon the bargain, he would not deliver them to me without receiving either money or security, and he would not take me as surety; so I had to return to my lord to inform him of this, and he was sore displeased that no one would trust him. He wrote a letter, therefore, with his own hands to Schweinichen, desiring that he would deliver the sheep according to the agreement. But it could not be arranged, and Schweinichen excused himself. This irritated the Duke still more; and as we had nothing but mushrooms and bilberries to eat, his Princely Grace desired me to think of some means of giving security. As I had before asked for a loan of three hundred thalers for his Princely Grace from the council at Lowenberg, and had received fair promises, I went again to the councillors, and begged of them to settle the affair; but they refused.

I persevered, and at last they consented to be security for the sheep, provided I were responsible for any damage or loss. This, however, I objected to, but begged that they would trust his Princely Grace, for they should not be the worse for it. So I persuaded the council to become security with their seal to the old higgler for half a year, and we obtained provision again from the old sheep. These were frequently dressed in eight different ways, also the mushrooms in three different ways, and the bilberries in two ways. With this his Princely Grace and we all were obliged to be content, and to drink bad Goldberger beer.

Meanwhile autumn drew on, and we were able to obtain birds. But when I went to set gins in the wood, I had great difficulty with the retinue, who all wished to scour the wood and get birds for themselves. Although his Princely Grace himself forbad it, no one would desist therefrom, so that I was obliged to put the Junkers under arrest in the room in the courtyard, and the common people in the tower. I became thereby very unpopular, yet it could not be helped. His Princely Grace went every morning himself to catch birds, and that was also my pastime. Otherwise the time pa.s.sed very tediously; although I had not much rest, as I had to procure provisions, which was a source of great trouble to me.

"Now his Princely Grace perceiving that it was difficult for him to maintain himself at the Groditzberg, and that no allowance could be obtained from Duke Friedrich, hearing likewise that the Arnsdorf pond had been fished at an earlier period than heretofore, and that when drawn, a certain quant.i.ty of carp had been caught and placed in reservoirs, he ordered me to provide some waggons, and rode himself with fifteen hors.e.m.e.n to Arnsdorf. As it was almost evening, and there was no one near the reservoir but the pond watchman, his Princely Grace had a large number of the fish taken out, as many as the five waggons could carry, and returned therewith to Groditzberg.

"Whilst the Duke was having the waggons loaded with fish, the alarm was given at Liegnitz; thereupon the Burgrave Kessel and Hans Tschammer, the master of the horse, galloped off with five hors.e.m.e.n, to prevent any fish from being carried away; but they were too late, for the greater part of the waggons laden with fish were gone, besides which, they perceived that his Princely Grace was there in person, and stronger than themselves. His Princely Grace did not give them a kind greeting, but gave Kessel a blow on the back, saying, that if he allowed a word to pa.s.s his lips that was not seemly, he should be his prisoner, and would find that the Duke would treat him as a rebel. So these five were obliged to let the matter pa.s.s, and thank G.o.d that they had got so well out of it.

"On the following day the pond was again to be drawn for fish, and Duke Friedrich expected that Duke Heinrich would return and seize more of them; so he proceeded thither himself, taking with him five-and-twenty hors.e.m.e.n, and likewise fifty arquebusiers, who were concealed among the bushes under the bank. His Princely Grace however remained at home, but sent me and a foreigner, Hans Fuchs, a captain of Landsknechts, together with six hors.e.m.e.n to Arnsdorf, with directions to greet Duke Friedrich kindly, and say that my lord had been compelled by necessity to carry off the fish on the preceding day, and he begged he would not take it amiss; that Duke Friedrich was to consider it as the provision due to him, and his Princely Grace entreated him in a friendly way to send him yet another supply of fish for provision.

"But Duke Friedrich looked black, knit his brows, and answered thus: 'As for this greeting of his Princely Grace, if he sent it with a true brother's heart, he thanked him for it; but two days ago the fish had been carried off from the reservoir, which greatly annoyed him, and if he had come there in person no good would have arisen from it.' He was quite unfriendly, and said that no more fish should be sent, and if an attempt should be made to take them away by force, he would guard them.

Thus I departed from Duke Friedrich, and asked Kessel for a dish of fish, as we wished to breakfast at Perschdorf, whereupon Duke Friedrich ordered them to give me what I wanted.

"Now when I came with such an answer to my lord, he was sore displeased, and made all kinds of projects, and wished to take the fish by force. Meanwhile there came intelligence that Duke Friedrich was again going to fish the next day, and would have a guard with him. Then my lord said to me: 'Hans, we'll have some sport; reckon how many hors.e.m.e.n we can muster; we will go and frighten Duke Friedrich a little at the Arnsdorf pond.' But I would not consent to this, and objected to any such plan, as their hearts would have been much embittered thereby towards each other. Duke Friedrich had also many Poles, servants of the n.o.bility, with him, and they were powerful. His Princely Grace however would not give it up, but promised me he would not speak an angry word to any one, and I should see how he would drive away Duke Friedrich and his followers; thereupon I made a reckoning, and found that we could bring together a force of nineteen hors.e.m.e.n, three trumpeters, six arquebusiers, and two lackeys, wherewith Duke Heinrich was well content, and commanded me to take with us one waggon with fish barrels, as Duke Friedrich would not be so uncourteous as to refuse to present us with some fish.

"Early in the morning his Princely Grace left his castle for Perschdorf. There he received information that Duke Friedrich had gone in a little boat on the pond. On hearing this, his Princely Grace said to me: 'Hans, now is the time, advance.' Now Duke Friedrich had placed a sentinel at the end of the dam, who as soon as he observed anything, was to fire a shot as a signal. As soon therefore as this shot was fired by the Duke's sentinel, I caused one of the trumpeters to blow, and then another, and afterwards all three together. Then, as I was afterwards told, a great tumult arose, and Duke Friedrich and his attendants called out for their armour, and Duke Friedrich was in so great terror on the pond, that they could hardly prevent his fainting.

At last he sprang out of the boat and waded in the mud, so that he lost his breath. When the arquebusiers whom Duke Friedrich had with him, heard the trumpeters, they ran among the bushes on the meadow; so that there was no one to be seen when he called for his guard, and some shots that fell on the lappets of Duke Friedrich's coat, and on his steed, were the only answer, and he made off to Liegnitz with all speed. As soon as the others saw that their lord was riding away, they followed his example, and only nine hors.e.m.e.n remained by the reservoirs; among them Leuthold von der Saale, Balthasar Rost.i.tz, and Muschelwitz. So when his Princely Grace approached them, they took off their hats, and my lord greeted them graciously, and inquired where their master was; to which they replied that they did not know.

Whereupon my lord replied, that he had not come as an enemy, but as a brother, and added: 'I have brought with me a fish-barrel, hoping that my brother would hold friendly intercourse with me, and not be uncourteous, but make me a present of a dish of fish. And as I am expecting foreign guests, I will take twenty large pike, sixty of round pike, and a score of large carp.' Those who were to have fished withdrew, and von Saale protested that his Princely Grace should not take away the fish. My lord, however, did not enter into parley about it, but compelled the peasants who had run away to descend to the reservoir and catch the fish. And his Princely Grace packed the fish himself in the barrel, and commanded the Junkers to tell Duke Friedrich that he should not have fled from him and his troopers, as he had come with friendly intentions; but it was clear that a bad conscience could not conceal itself. Also that Duke Friedrich might come the next morning and help him eat the fish; and he added: 'But if your Lord will not come, do so yourselves if you are honest men, and be not afraid as you have been to-day.' After this his Princely Grace said to me: 'Hans, did I not tell you beforehand that I would drive away my brother? Are you content? I will in like manner drive him from Liegnitz, you will see: it will not take long.' Thus we returned to Groditzberg in good spirits."

Thus far Schweinichen. The reader will have no difficulty in discovering that no one thought of attacking the Duke in his castle.

When winter drew on he himself became weary of this caprice, and determined to make another expedition through Germany, which Schweinichen very wisely opposed, but for which he afterwards exerted his wits to procure money.

In the year 1675, a century after Duke Heinrich and his faithful Hans had undertaken their first wild expedition through Germany, there appeared in Silesia on the great heath of Kolzenau, which since the war had lain waste and desolate, a strange and monstrous animal, such as in the grim time of yore had rent the Silesian thickets with its horns, when the first Piastens ranged through the woods with the hunting-spear and arrow. And above in the royal castle at Liegnitz, the last Piasten Duke, the young Georg Friedrich celebrated his birthday with his n.o.bles. As the rare venison was placed on his table, the joyful sounds of the trumpet rang through the city, and the cannons thundered as often as the health of the new Duke was drunk. But thoughtful people in the country, trembled on account of the wild monster that had come into their woods and to their young lord, as an ill omen from the olden time; and they shook their heads and prophesied misfortune. The last elk that was slain in Silesia was for the last joyous repast of the last of the Piasten. A few days after he died; and when his coffin was borne in the evening through the streets of Liegnitz, pitch wreaths were burnt at every corner, and hundreds of boys dressed in black, carried white wax tapers before their deceased lord. The German Silesians grieved over the fall of the great Sclavonic dynasty, which had once led their fathers into this land, and had first shown through them to the world, that the union of men in a free community is more beneficial to a country, than despotic government over slaves. But this truth had afforded no safeguard for the lives of the lords of this country.

CHAPTER XII.

THE GERMAN IDEAS OF THE DEVIL IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

The phantasies of the human mind have also a history; they form and develop themselves with the character of a people whilst they influence it. In the century of the Reformation, these phantasies had more weight than most earthly realities. It is the dark side of German development which we there see, and to it is due the last place in the characteristic features of the period of the Reformation.

In the most ancient of the Jewish records there is no mention of the devil except in the book of Job; but at the time of Christ, Satan was considered by the Jews as the great tempter of mankind, and as having the power to enter into men and animals, out of which he could be driven by the invocations of pious men. The people estimated the power of their teachers by the authority that they exercised over the devil.

When the Christian faith spread over the western empire, the Greek and Roman G.o.ds were looked upon as allies of the devil, and the superst.i.tion of many who yet clung to the later wors.h.i.+p of Rome, made the devil the centre of their mythology.

But the conceptions which the Fathers of the Church had of the person and power of the devil, were still more changed when the German tribes overthrew the government of the Roman empire and adopted Christianity.

In doing so this family of people did not lose the fullness of their own life, the highest manifestation of which was their old mythology.

It is true that the names of the old G.o.ds gradually died away; what was obviously contrary to the new faith was at last set aside by the zeal of the priests, by force, and by pious artifices; but innumerable familiar shapes and figures, customs and ideas, were kept alive, nay, they not only were kept alive, but they entwined themselves in a peculiar manner with Christianity. As Christian churches were erected on the very spots where the heathen wors.h.i.+p had been held, and as the figure of the crucified Saviour, or the name of an apostle was attached to sacred places like Donar's oak; thus the Christian saints and their traditions took the place of the old G.o.ds. The people transferred their recollections of their ancient heathen deities to the saints and apostles of the Church, and even to Christ himself, and as there was a realm in their mythology which was ruled by the mysterious powers of darkness, this was a.s.signed to the devil. The name devil, derived from the Greek (diabolos), was changed into Fol, from the northern G.o.d Voland, his ravens and the raging nightly host were transferred to him from Wuotan, his hammer from Donar; but his black colour, his wolves or goat's form, his grandmother, the chains wherewith he was bound, and many other traditions, he inherited from the evil powers of heathendom which had ever been inimical to the benevolent ruling G.o.ds. These powerful demons, amongst whom was the dark G.o.d of death, belonged according to the heathen mythology to the primeval race of giants, which as long as the world lasted were to wage a deadly struggle with the powers of light. They formed a dark realm of shapeless primordial powers, where the deepest science of magic was cultivated. To them belonged the sea-serpent, which coiled round the earth in mighty circles, lay at the bottom of the ocean, the giant wolves which lay fettered in the interior of the earth or pursued the sun and moon, by which, at the last day, they were to be destroyed; the ice demons which from the north sent over the land snow-storms and devastating floods; and worse than all, the fiendish Helia, G.o.ddess of the dead. Besides the wors.h.i.+p of the _Asengotter_, there was in heathen Germany a gloomy service for these demons, and we learn from early Christian witnesses that even before the introduction of Christianity, the priestesses and sorcerers of these dark deities were feared and hated. They were able by their incantations to the G.o.ddess of death, to bring storms upon the corn-fields and to destroy the cattle, and it was probably they who were supposed to make the bodies and weapons of warriors invulnerable.

They carried on this wors.h.i.+p by night, and sacrificed mysterious animals to the G.o.ddess of death and to the race of giants. It was these priestesses more especially--so at least we may conclude--who, as _Hazusen_ or _Hegissen_, or _Hexen_ (witches), were handed down by tradition to a late period in the middle ages.

The remembrance of these heathen beings became mixed with a wild chaos of foreign superst.i.tions, which had been brought from all the nations of antiquity into heathen Rome, that great nursery of every superst.i.tion, and from that ancient world had penetrated into Christianity. The _Strigen_ and _Lamien_, evil spirits of ancient Rome, which like vampires consumed the inward life of men, sorceresses who flew through the air, and a.s.sembled nightly to celebrate disgraceful orgies, were also handed down to the Germans, who mingled them with similar conceptions, having perhaps a like origin. It is not always possible to discover which of these notions were originally German or which were derived from other nations.

The western Church in the beginning of the middle ages kept itself pure from this chaos of gloomy conceptions; it condemned them as devilish, but punished them on the whole with mildness and humanity, when they did not lead to social crimes. But when the Church itself was frozen into the rigidity of a hierarchical system, when strong hearts were driven into heresy by the worldly claims of the papacy, and the people became degraded under the nomination of begging monks, these superst.i.tions gradually produced in the Church a narrow-minded system.

Whatever was considered to be connected with the devil was put an end to by b.l.o.o.d.y persecution. After the thirteenth century, about the period when great ma.s.ses of the people poured into the Sclave countries from the interior of Germany, fanatical monks disseminated the odious notion that the devil, as ruler of the witches, held intercourse with them at nightly meetings, and that there was a formal ritual for the wors.h.i.+p of Satan, by accursed men and women, who had abjured the Christian faith; and for this a countless number of suspected persons, in France, in the first instance, were punished with torture and the stake, by delegated inquisitors. In Germany itself, these persecutions of the devil's a.s.sociates first became prevalent after the funeral pile of Huss. The more vehement the opposition of reason to these persecutions, the more violent became the fury of the Church. After the fatal bull of Innocent VIII., from the year 1484, the burning of witches in ma.s.ses began to a great extent in Germany, and continued, with some interruptions, till late in the eighteenth century. Whoever owned to being a witch was considered for ever doomed to h.e.l.l, and the Church hardly made an effort to convert them.

According to popular belief, the connection of man with the devil was of three kinds. Either they renounced the wors.h.i.+p of G.o.d for that of the devil, swearing allegiance to him, and doing him homage, like the witches and their a.s.sociates; or they were possessed by him, a belief derived by the Germans from Holy Scripture; or men might conclude a compact with the devil binding both parties under mutual obligations.

In the latter case men signed away their souls in a deed written with their own blood, and in return the devil was to grant to them the fulfilment of all their wishes upon earth, success, money, and invulnerability. Although the oldest example known is that of the Roman Theophilus--a tradition of the sixth century--and although the written compact originated at a time when the Roman forms of law had been introduced among the western nations, yet it appears that the source of this tradition concerning the devil was German. These transactions were based upon a deep feeling of mutual moral obligation, and on a foolhardy feeling, which liked to rest the decision of the whole of the future upon the deed of a moment. There is much similarity between the German who in gambling stakes his freedom on the throw of the dice, and he who vows his soul to the devil. These alliances were not looked upon by the old Church with mortal hatred; these wicked and foolhardy beings, like Theophilus himself, might be saved by the intercession of the saints, and the devil compelled to give up his rights. It is also peculiar to German traditions, that the devil endeavours to fulfil zealously and honestly his part of the compact, the deceiver is man.

Through these additions the popular mind invested the devil with new terrors, yet it strove at the same time to think of him in a more agreeable point of view. The race of giants of the ancient mythology had had two aspects for the people; they took pleasure in seeing something harmless, and indeed burlesque about them, besides the terrors of their demoniacal nature. On one hand, the deformity of their great bodies, their strength, and clumsy wit, and on the other, their supposed knowledge of magic and technical dexterity, had already been in heathen times an inexhaustible source of comic stories, by which the people poetically explained to themselves, among other things, all striking phenomena of nature. But besides the giants there was in the heathen times a numerous host, of smaller spirits in nature, who hovered around men. The hairy _Schrate_ dwelt in the woods, the _Nix_ sang on the banks of the brooks, a numerous race of dwarfs hammered in the mountains, elves and _Idisien_, the German fairies, played on the dew in the meadows, and the fighting maidens of Wuotan flew through the air in the form of swans or on magic horses. In house and courtyard, in barn, cow-house, and dairy, dwelt household spirits of various kinds, sprites sat under the hearth, hobgoblins glided in the form of tom-cats over the rafters, brown and gray mannikins, and sometimes white ladies surrounded the family, as guardian spirits of their domestic comfort and welfare. The repose of sleepers was disturbed by nightmares, the rye-mume sat in the ears of corn, and the little wood fairy on the felled timber, the will-o'-the-wisp in the marsh fluttered about restlessly, and endeavoured to entice men out of the right track. These lesser spirits maintained their place in Christendom, but became timid and averse to men. It may be observed in the old traditions, with what sorrow the new convert regarded the disturbance of his relations with his old friends; in some, the little sprites lamented that they also could not become blessed; in others, they are disturbed by the sound of a clock, and depart secretly out of the country. Many of their dark and malicious traits of character were also transferred to the devil, especially those of the giants. He became an architect like them, he was obliged to carry great ma.s.ses of rock through the air, which he lost on his journey, or cast down in anger; he had to raise prodigious walls, and build bridges, castles, mills, and even churches. And in these works, he was almost always the person cheated, as were the giants in the olden traditions; being deprived of the reward for which he had worked. He had to guard treasures beneath the earth, in the form of a wolf or dog with fiery eyes, or to fly as a fiery dragon, and throw treasures down the chimney on to the hearth. He was obliged to appear in person at popular festivals, and act the part of the buffoon and much belaboured opponent of the heavenly powers, in a half ludicrous, half terrific dress. Among the Germans he had his disguises; the horns, the goats' or horses' foot, the halting gait, the tail, and the black colour. It is possible that the details of his costume may be taken from recollections of the ancient satyrs, but similar strange animal figures are to be found in the festive processions of German heathendom, and in the rising cities of the middle ages, the dress of the chimney sweeper was an inestimable help.

Such were the notions which prevailed about the devil in Germany for about a thousand years. They were influenced by all the great excitements and changes of the popular mind. In times of great religious zeal, they bore a wild misanthropic aspect; but in days when the people were engrossed with worldly pleasures, they a.s.sumed a more comic and harmless form.

Then came Luther and the Reformation. Together with every one else in Germany, the devil also was brought into the great struggle of the century. The Roman Catholics looked upon him as the head of the whole body of heretics; while the Protestants took the popular view of him as a figure standing with a bellows behind the pope and cardinals, inflating them with attacks on the reformed doctrines. He was mixed up in all theological and political transactions; he sat on Tetzel's box of indulgences, visited Luther at the Wartburg, made intrigues between the Emperor and Pope, humbled the Protestants by the Smalkaldic war, and the Roman Catholic party by the apostacy of the Elector Maurice; and in all the concerns, small and great, of the people he appeared, and was busy everywhere.

This enlargement in his powers of action would probably have taken place at any period of zealous faith; but in the person and teaching of the great character who gave to the whole of the sixteenth century its impress and colour, there was something peculiar by which even the reverse of all that was holy was remoulded.

First of all, Luther was the son of a German peasant. In the recollections of his childhood, as revived by him amid the circle of his companions at Wittenberg, the devil wore a very old-fas.h.i.+oned, nay, heathenish, aspect; he brought devastating storms, while the angels brought the good winds, as once upon a time the gigantic eagles did from the furthest corners of the world by the stroke of their wings;[66] he sat as a water-G.o.d under the bridges, drawing maidens down into the water, whom he made his wives; he served in the cloister as household spirit; blew the fire as a goblin; as a dwarf laid his changelings in the cradles; as a nightmare deluded the sleepers into ascending the roof of the house, and bustled about the rooms as a hobgoblin. By this last species of activity he sometimes disturbed Luther. It is true that the ink-spot at the Wartburg is not sufficiently verified, but Luther could tell of a disagreeable noise which the devil had made there nightly with a sack of hazel nuts. In the monastery of Wittenberg also, where Luther was studying Rempter one night, the devil made such a noise, for so long a time in the crypt of the church underneath him, that he at last s.n.a.t.c.hed up his book and went to bed. Afterwards he was provoked with himself for not having defied the Jackpudding.

Thus deeply was Luther imbued with the popular superst.i.tion. But to this kind of devilry he did not attach much importance; the bad spirits who employed themselves after this fas.h.i.+on, he very properly called poor devils. His opinion was that devils were countless. "They are not all," he says, "insignificant devils, but country devils and princes'

devils, who for a long period, above five thousand years, have been busy, tempting men, and are thoroughly clever and cunning. We have great devils who are _doctores theologiae_; then the Turks and papists have bad insignificant devils who are not theological but juridical."

From them he thought came everything bad upon earth, as for instance illnesses; he had a strong suspicion that the dizziness he had long suffered from was not natural; also conflagrations:--"Wherever a fire breaks out a little devil sits behind blowing the flame;" likewise famine and war:--"If G.o.d did not send us the holy and dear angels as guards and arquebusiers, who encamp round us like a bulwark, it would soon be over with us." Expert as Luther was in describing his own characteristics, he was equally so with the devil; he declared that he was haughty, and could not bear to be treated contemptuously. Therefore he advised that he should be driven away by scorn, and jeering questions. He thought, also, that Satan was a melancholy spirit, and could not endure gay music.[67]

But it was not in vain that Luther had spiritualized the Church teaching; it was owing to him that the struggle for eternal salvation began in the souls of individuals, and that the destiny of man was made to depend on his own conscience and faith in G.o.d. Through this, Satan's sphere of activity was changed, and the strife of men with the evil spirit became more especially an inward one. It was not the outward appearance and clatter of the devil that was peculiarly terrible, but his whisperings to the souls of men. The preservatives against this danger were, constant inward repentance, frequent prayer, and an enduring and loving remembrance of G.o.d. Luther's temptations have already been mentioned; he spoke openly and honestly to his cotemporaries concerning them, and the race of men who listened with faith to his discourse were infected by him; inward temptations were commonly recognized by the Protestants, and on this point also he became the comforter and confidant of many.

The difference between the old and new Church was first shown in the conception of the free contract which man concluded with h.e.l.l. In the old Church it had been made comparatively easy to believers to escape from the devil. By certain pious outward observances the Christian could in the worst case, even when deeply engaged with Satan, free himself from him in the last hour. Therefore, in the contracts made between men and the devil before the Reformation, the latter was almost always the person defrauded; this business-like and immoral method of reaching the kingdom of heaven excited the deepest indignation of Luther. He strongly proclaimed the doctrine of St. Augustine; that man being corrupt through original sin is a prey to the devil, and can only be put in the way of salvation by continual inward repentance, and that therefore unrepentant sinners cannot be saved from h.e.l.l. The result of this was, that after the sixteenth century, those men who had concluded a compact with h.e.l.l were generally supposed to be carried off by the devil. The sorrowful end of the traditional Dr. Faust is well known; he was not Satan's only prey. It was generally believed, and published in hundreds of tracts, that men of profligate character, reckless drunkards, gamblers, swearers, or enemies against whom a bitter hatred was entertained, were carried off into the nether regions. And the hand of the devil was thought to be distinctly perceptible in the twisted neck of the dying sinner. Luther himself had once to interfere in such a case. A young student at Wittenberg, an ill-disposed youth, had invoked the devil, and had offered himself up to him. Luther took the affair in hand with great earnestness and dignity; he first crushed the culprit by severe admonitions, then he knelt down with him in the church, laid his hands on him, prayed with fervour, and caused the youth finally to repeat after him a penitent confession; thus was the business settled. Even historical personages did not escape the melancholy fate of being possessed by the devil. The belief in this continued beyond the Thirty years' war.