Their plans matured, and every day approached nearer to completion, while with firm hand Count Adam Schwarzenberg held the reins which guided the great machinery of insurrection. He had sent Colonel Goldacker with his regiment to Mecklenburg to draw out the Swedes, and to provoke them to advance upon the Mark. The Swedes took up the gauntlet thrown down to them, and, while they were opposed to Goldacker in Mecklenburg, other Swedish regiments marched from Lausitz against Berlin. This was exactly what the Stadtholder wished, and once more the devoted Mark saw the flames of war burst forth, in order that Schwarzenberg might have an excuse for summoning Saxon troops to his aid.
To-day these troops had reached Berlin, and the Stadtholder wished to celebrate their arrival by a sumptuous fête in his palace. To this entertainment he had bidden Colonel Goldacker from Mecklenburg; the commandants of Spandow and Berlin, with their officers, were also invited, and already, in the early morning, they were preparing the table in the great hall for the magnificent collation to be served at noon.
Meanwhile lamentation and mourning reigned in the cities of Berlin and Cologne, while life went so merrily in the Schwarzenberg palace. The wild hordes of soldiers made the streets unsafe even in the daytime. Drunken they roved through the city, with the greatest tumult and uproar; they broke into the houses of peaceful citizens to plunder and rob, and wherever anything was refused them, they committed the most wanton acts, laughing and singing over the tortures they inflicted. In vain had the burghers applied to the officers of these ungovernable outlaws and besought them to restrain the soldiery from outrages, to confine them to their quarters, and to punish them for their thefts and robberies. The officers declared that there was no means of enforcing so rigid a discipline, and that in times of war some allowance should be made for soldiers who with their own bodies protected the burghers from their foes.
But the poor, tormented burghers did not want war; they wanted peace! Peace at any price. The States, too, who held their session in Berlin, wanted peace, and to this end had sent out a deputation from their midst to the Elector at Königsberg to implore him to pity their distress and to command the Stadtholder in the Mark to abstain from hostilities against the Swedes.
The same suit the citizens desired to present to the Stadtholder, and to-day, while preparations were in progress for a military entertainment in the Schwarzenberg palace, a solemn deputation of the magistracy and citizenship repaired to the same spot to lay before the Stadtholder their wishes and entreaties. Count Schwarzenberg kept them waiting a long while in his antechamber, and when he finally made his appearance his countenance was proud and haughty, and his eyes shot angry glances upon the poor representatives of the burghers, who stood with deprecating humility before him.
"What would you have of me, sirs?" he cried, in a rough voice. "What have you to say to me?"
"Most gracious sir," replied the burgomaster of Berlin, "we come to entreat the aid and assistance of your excellency in behalf of our afflicted cities. We are exhausted, hungry, plundered, driven to despair. We can no longer bear the frightful burden of war. Have compassion upon our affliction; make peace with the Swede, that he may not advance upon Berlin, that we may not be forced to appeal to foreigners for our defense."
"Make peace!" cried the burghers, stretching out their hands imploringly toward the Stadtholder, their eyes filled with tears. "O sir! we have borne sorrow and wretchedness for so many long, bitter years! Our hearts are crushed and desperate! Our souls are faint! Make peace, that we may see some end to our trials! We have no nourishment, no money, not even a shelter for our heads. The Swedes plundered us; the Imperialists took from us what the Swedes left; and now our own soldiers drive us out of our bare and empty dwellings, make sport of our calamities, mock the burghers, insult our wives and daughters, and quarter themselves in our houses, while we wander homeless about the streets, not even being able to procure shelter in our churches because the cavalry have taken possession of these with their horses, and converted the temples of God into filthy barracks! Make peace, Sir Stadtholder, make peace!"
"I have not power to do so," replied Count Schwarzenberg haughtily, "neither the power nor the will! The Swede is the enemy of our country, and we must resist him with all the means at our command. Cease your howling and shrieking, for it will be but in vain. War is upon us, and we can not as cowards retreat before it. Shame upon you for your pusillanimity and cowardice, since your men are still capable of bearing arms!"
"Sir, our men have no more strength for fighting. Our hands are too weak to hold a weapon."