After 1632, the town decayed more and more every year, now under Swedish or Imperial, now under Evangelical, or Roman Catholic ministers; in 1639, the town contained only forty citizens, and had a debt of a ton and a half of gold; in 1641, the citizens themselves unroofed their houses in order not to pay taxes, and dwelt in thatched huts. When the peace came, the town was almost entirely in ruins. Eight years later, in 1656, there were again one hundred and twenty-one citizens in Löwenberg; and about eight hundred and fifty inhabitants, eighty-seven per cent, of the population had perished.
CHAPTER VI.
THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.--THE PEACE.
The peace was signed; the ambassadors had solemnized the ratification by shaking hands, and trumpeters rode about the streets announcing the happy event.
At Nuremberg the Imperialists and the Swedes held a peace banquet in the great saloon of the council-house; the lofty vaulted hall was splendidly lighted; betwixt the chandeliers hung down thirty kinds of flowers and real fruits, bound together with gold tinsel; four choirs were stationed for festive music, and the six classes of invited guests were assembled in six different rooms. On the table stood two prodigious show dishes, a triumphal arch, and a hexagonal mound covered with mythological and allegorical figures with Latin and German devices. The banquet was served up in four courses, in each course were a hundred and fifty dishes, then came the fruits in silver dishes, and on real dwarf trees by which the whole table was covered; amidst all this, fine frankincense was burnt, which produced a very agreeable odour. Afterwards the upper leaves of the table were taken away by pieces, then the table was covered again with napkins, and plates strewed over wish flowers made of sugar, and now came the confectionery: among these there were gigantic marchpanes on two silver shells, each of which weighed ten pounds. And when the health of his Imperial Majesty of Vienna and his Kindly Majesty of Sweden was drank, together with the prosperity of the peace which had been concluded, fifteen large and small pieces were discharged from the citadel. When this peace banquet had lasted far on into the night, the Field-marshals and Generals present, wished on parting to play once more at being soldiers. They caused arms to be brought into the hall, chose the two ambassadors as captains; his Illustrious and Serene Highness Herr Carl Gustav, Count Palatine on the Rhine, afterwards King of Sweden, and his Excellency General Piccolomini; but for a corporal they chose Field-Marshal Wrangel; and all the Generals, colonels, and lieutenant-colonels were made musketeers. Thus these gentlemen marched round the table, fired a salvo, went in good order to the citadel, and there fired off the pieces many times. On their return they were playfully discharged by Colonel Kraft and dismissed the service, as now there was to be peace for ever. Two oxen were slaughtered for the poor, and there was a great distribution of bread, also for six hours red and white wine flowed from a lion's jaw. For thirty years had tears and blood flowed from a greater lion's jaw.
Like the honourable ambassadors, the people prepared a festive celebration in every town, nay in every half-destroyed village. How great was the effect of the intelligence of peace on the German nation may be learned from some affecting details. To the old country people the peace appeared as a return of their youth; they looked back to the rich harvests of their childhood, thickly populated villages, the merry Sundays under the hewed-down village lindens, and the happy hours which they had passed with their ruined and deceased relations and companions. They saw themselves happier, more manly, and better than they had been during thirty years of misery and degradation. But the youth of the country--a hard war-engendered demoralized race--discovered in it the approach of a wonderful time which appeared to them like a legend from a distant country. The time when on every acre of field, the thick yellow ears of corn would wave in the wind; when in every stall the cows would low, and in every sty a fat pig would be lying; when they themselves should drive with two horses in the fields, merrily cracking their whips, and when there would be no enemy's soldiers to snatch rough caresses from their sisters or sweethearts; when they would no longer have to lie in wait in the bushes, with pitchforks and rusty muskets, for the stragglers, nor to sit as fugitives in the dismal gloom of the wood by the graves of the slain; when the village roofs would be without holes, and the farm-yards without ruined barns; when the howl of the wolf would not be heard every night at the yard gate; when their village churches would again have glass windows, and beautiful bells; when in the soiled choir of the church, there should arise a new altar with a silk cover, a silver crucifix and a gilt chalice; and when one day the young lads would again lead their brides to the altar, bearing the virgin wreaths in their hair. A passionate, almost painful joy palpitated through all hearts; even the wildest brood of the war, the soldiery, were seized with it. The stern rulers themselves, the Princes and their ambassadors, felt that this great boon of peace would be the salvation of Germany. The festival was celebrated with the greatest fervour and solemnity of which the people were capable. From the same circle of village recollections from which examples have already been taken, the following description of a festival is placed, in juxtaposition to that of the Princes and Field-marshals.
Döllstedt, a fine village in the dukedom of Gotha, had suffered severely. In 1636 the Hatzfeld corps had fallen upon the place, had committed great damage, plundered the church, burnt and broken off the woodwork, as had been prophesied by the pastor Herr Deckner shortly before. "This dear man," thus writes his successor, the pastor, Herr Trümper, "had rebuked his flock with righteous zeal on account of their sins; but they had laughed at his rebukes and warnings, had treated him with anger and ingratitude, and as he lamented in 1634, with weeping eyes, had cut down his hops from the poles, and carried off the corn from his fields. Thus he could only proclaim to them God's righteous judgment on such hardened hearts. Not only publicly from the pulpit, but also a few hours before his blessed departure, he had thus lamented: 'Ah! thou poor Döllstedt! it will go ill with thee after my decease!' Thereupon he turned, with the assistance of the attendants, towards the church, and raised his weary head, struggling ineffectually with death, as if he wished once more, from the corner of his room, to see the church, in the service of which his life had been passed, and said: 'Ah! thou dear, dear church! How will it fare with thee after my death? They will sweep thee up with a besom.'"
His prophecy was fulfilled. The village in 1636 had to liquidate war damages to the amount 5500 of gulden, and between 1627 and 1637 it amounted altogether to 29,595 gulden, so that the inhabitants by degrees disappeared and the place remained quite desolate; in 1636 there were only two married couples in the village. In the year 1641, after Banner and, again in the winter, the French had been quartered in it, half an acre of corn was sown, and there were four couples dwelling there. By the zealous care of Duke Ernest the Good, of Gotha, the deserted villages in his country were comparatively quickly occupied by men. In 1650, therefore, the jubilee and peace festival could be solemnized in Döllstedt. The description of it is given, as it is recorded in the church books, by the then Pastor Trümper.
"On the 19th of August, at four o'clock in the morning, we, together with our coadjutors and some of the householders of Gotha, mounted our tower, and celebrated with music our morning prayer. Towards six o'clock, as happened the preceding day at one o'clock; they began to ring the bells for a quarter of an hour, and again, for the same length of time, at half after seven. Meanwhile, the whole population, man and woman, young and old, except those who assisted at the ringing, assembled before the gate: 1st, the women-folk stood on one side; before them was a figure of Peace, which the noble maidens had dressed up beautifully, in a lovely green silk dress and other decorations; on her head was placed a beautiful green wreath intermingled with gold spangles, and in her hand a green branch. 2nd. On the other side towards the village stood the men, and in front of them Justice in a beautiful white garment, with a green wreath round her head, and bearing in her hands a naked sword and gold scales. 3rd. Towards the fields on the same side, stood the young men with guns, and some with naked swords, and before them Mars, dressed as a soldier, and bearing in his hands a crossbow. 4th. In the middle near me, stood the scholars, householders, and the coadjutors. Then did the recollection come across me, of how often we had been obliged to quit our homes and flee from our gates, our eyes overflowing with tears, and when the storm was passed, had returned home again with joy, notwithstanding that we found all devastated, ruined, and turned topsy-turvy. Now we thought it fitting thus to honour our dear God, going out in front of our gates, and as He had preserved us from the like devastation and necessity for flight and escape, by the gracious boon of the noble and long-desired peace, we desired now to go to his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise, and would for that raise our voices with one accord and sing: 'To God alone most high be honour, &c.' 5th. Whilst these strophes were being chanted, Peace and Justice approached one another nearer and nearer. At the words: 'All feuds are now at an end,' those who held naked swords sheathed them, and those who had guns fired some salvos and turned themselves round. Peace beckoned to some who had been hereto appointed; these took from Mars, who appeared to defend himself his crossbow, and broke it in twain; Peace and Justice met together and kissed each other. 6th. Thereupon the chanting, which had been begun, was continued, and we prepared to go. Before the scholars, went Andreas Ehrhardt, adorned to the utmost, with a staff in his hand wound round with green garlands. Then followed the scholars with green wreaths on their heads and green branches in their hands, and they wore short white garments; then came the assistants and musicians; after these, I, the Pastor, together with the Herr Pastor of Vargula, who had come to me. After us came the maidens, the little ones in front, and the taller ones behind, all adorned to the utmost, and green wreaths on their heads. After these went Peace, and behind her the boys, who carried a basket of rolls and a dish of apples, which were afterwards distributed among the children; item, all kinds of fruits of the field.
"These were followed by the noble maidens, together with their relations, whom they had bidden; after them nobles from Seebach, Saxony, and others who had accompanied them. After these came Justice, and behind her, magistrates and assessors, all bearing white staves in their hands, twined with green garlands. Then followed the Ensign Christian Heum, in his best attire, with a staff in his hand, on which he leant, but it was encircled with a green garland. Afterwards came the men in pairs with green bouquets in their hands; the men were followed by Mars bound, then the young lads with their guns reversed. There followed the Sergeant-major Herr Dietrich Grün in his finery, with a staff in his hand like the Ensign; and after him the women-folk, all also in pairs in their order, and all passed singing through the village to the church. When the aforesaid song was finished we sang, 'Now Praise the Lord, my soul.'